#I need a dapper name for him help | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

notafunkiller · 2 years ago

Text

love me like you paid me - co-written with @marvelouslizzie

Summary: You accompany businessman Bucky Barnes to all the events he has to attend, and you find yourself wishing he wasn’t paying you to be his date.

Pairing: businessman!Bucky Barnes x female reader

Warnings: 18+, age gap (the reader is 24, Bucky is 34), teasing, dirty talk, pet names, daddy kink, fingering, nipples play, oral sex, clit play, no condom (but they are both clean and the reader is on birth control), cursing, no mention of y/n

Word Count: 11K

Bucky Barnes masterlist

A/N: @marvelouslizzie and I had a great time writing this story, and we really hope you will, too, while reading it.

Please, do not repost or translate without my permission!

> I think I'll be late for a couple of minutes, I am very sorry. You can go inside, you just need to say your name.

You look at the text he sent you once again, to make sure you didn’t miss any details. The thought of going inside alone spikes up your anxiety even though you never met him before. Everything looks so fancy, and you are already feeling out of place.

So you decide to wait. It's better for appearances, anyway. You didn't properly establish the context of you being his plus-one before, and you don't want to make mistakes.

And it doesn't even take a long time. He arrives just five or six minutes later. You watch him get out of the car and look around before your eyes finally meet for the first time.

"I am so, so sorry for being late. But why are you standing here?" He says awkwardly looking at you from head to toe twice as he starts arranging his suit jacket.

“I thought it would be better if we go inside together. It wouldn't look too convincing if we came separately.”

He nods. "Smart. I'm sorry, I'm..." He pauses, unsure, and extends his hand. "You're very beautiful, thank you. I'm Bucky."

You offer him a smile while extending your hand and giving him your name. “Thank you. You’re looking very dapper yourself.”

He snorts. "Not thanks to me."

“Huh?” You raise an eyebrow in confusion.

"I meant my stylist." He explains, freeing your hand.

“Oh.” You feel awkward. You didn’t even think about that. “Yeah, but you are carrying it well.”

You see his cheeks getting red. "Thank you. Shall we go inside?"

“Yeah, of course.” You offer him your arm.

"I think I should be doing that." He does the same thing.

You feel so embarrassed for a second but take his arm anyway. “Sorry. I’m just nervous.”

“Don't be sorry." He gives the man at the entrance a smile before saying your names, and in no time, you are led to your table.

You take a look around, trying to be as subtle as possible. It’s even fancier than it seemed when you were waiting for him outside and people seem to know one another as they greet and talk to each other. You feel a faint pain in your stomach.

"You know… in case someone asks you, my three favorite things are eating my family and not using commas."

“What?” You feel so lost.

"My three favorite things are eating my family and not using commas." He repeats this expired joke he read online at some point. "You know, eating my family and eating, my family."

You suddenly snort, not expecting him to make a joke like this.

"I guess you can smile, and what a beautiful smile you have." He pauses and scrunches his nose as soon as he finishes the phrase. "I don't mean to be you know... I am not trying to...."

“You are not trying to what?” You’re still smiling because of his dad joke, totally unaware of why he’s trying to explain himself.

"To make you uncomfortable or something. I just wanted to help you feel better. I am surprised, though. Usually, models feel a little less nervous."

“Model?” You repeat, visibly confused. “I’m… I’m not a model.” Did they tell him you were a model?

"Oh, it explains the height." He lets out a deep breath.

“The height?” You can’t believe he actually said that. Like your height isn’t good enough for his standards. Probably, you aren’t good enough for his standard since you aren’t a model.

"Oh god, no." He groans. "That sounded terrible. I meant, models usually are very tall and look... different. I told them I don't want a model, but my team didn't quite listen. That’s why I said that."

“So you aren’t the one who specifically wanted a model?”

"God, no." He shakes his head. "I actually chose you." He scrunches his nose again. "That sounds even more terrible."

“I know you chose me. How do you think they found a photo of me to send you?”

Bucky snorts. "I should shut up."

“No, no. I mean…” You lower your voice a little to make sure no one hears you. “I was aware of what this is when I said yes. It’s fine.”

"I am making a fool out of myself, I am sorry."

“No, you are not. It’s actually helping me to relax because I was really worried about…” You stop yourself right before saying something stupid.

"Did I seem intimidating?"

“Yeah.” You quickly accept it because his choice of words is much nicer than what you were originally thinking. You expected him to be a pretentious asshole. Instead, he seems like he’s just as nervous as you are.

He smiles. "What would you like to drink?"

“White wine is fine.” It seems like a safe choice.

"I love wine." He smiles. "And to be honest, it’s the only thing I drink at those events. Oh, and champagne, of course."

“That also works, but I can’t have too much.”

"Want to order food before?"

“No, not because of that. I have an early work meeting tomorrow.”

"Oh, we can leave earlier." He immediately offers. "I don't stick much around usually, anyway."

“That’s not necessary, we can stay as much as you want. I’m already prepared for my meeting. I just don’t want to seem unprofessional tomorrow by looking like I have a huge hangover. I kinda need it to go well.”

"What do you do if you're not a model?" He asks with a smile, genuinely curious to find out more information.

“I am running my own bakery.”

"That sounds so awesome. Family business?"

“No. I actually started it pretty recently. Still learning how to manage a business and get clients.” You suddenly stop, feeling self-conscious. “Sorry. That must sound really silly to you.”

"Silly?" He tries to tuck back a few strands of his hair as he looks at you. "I want to know more. If you want to share of course. Maybe I can even help. I know how hard it can be, especially when you don't have experience. Do you have a partner?"

“No.” You can’t help but smile because he seems genuinely interested. “I’m doing it by myself. Or rather trying.”

"Wow, that must be exhausting and challenging. Do you have employers? How new..." he stops mid-sentence when the waiter comes. "Can you bring us some white wine, please?"

"What kind?"

You watch him as he casually orders a specific brand, then his eyes meet yours again. You realize he’s actually waiting for your answer. “I have one person that works with me.”

"Paying a salary must be hard."

“Yeah, money is kinda tight.” That’s the whole reason you accepted being his date tonight: you want to be able to pay Nicole’s salary, but you don’t say that.

"I'm sorry." He sighs. "Maybe I can help, though." He thinks about a donation or something, but he doesn't even know you or your business.

“You already are. Don’t worry about it.”

The waiter returns with the wine, asking you if you want to taste it, but Bucky gives him a polite smile after looking at you. "Thank you, but no need."

The man nods and starts pouring slowly.

When you taste the wine, you understand why he specifically asked for this one. It leaves a really gentle after-taste on your tongue.

"Do you like it?" He asks nervously as he takes a sip himself.

“Very much. Probably the best wine I have ever tasted.”

"I am so glad to hear that. But did you eat anything before coming here?”

“Ihm… No.”

"Then we should order. Excuse me," he calls the waiter again with a hand gesture.

While he is ordering food, you find the perfect moment to stare at him. He’s speaking in a way that shows he belongs here. He is kind yet commanding. You focus on his face and watch a strand fall on his forehead. He doesn’t pay any attention to it, just gently pushing it back, but you find yourself taking a deeper breath. His lips are full, his smile is gentle and his eyes are curious. That’s when you notice he is actually talking to you.

"Do you have preferences?"

You shake your head. You have no idea what preference he is talking about, but even if you did you are sure you would have no idea what to order in a place like this.

"Do you trust me with this?"

“Yeah.” You quickly answer to cover the fact that you weren’t paying attention to his food choices. “Just no sea food, please.”

"Of course." He nods and turns his attention to the waiter again. "The same for her, please. Also a bottle of water."

It's already pretty late, and it's clear neither of you has much energy left, but you can't interrupt this conversation. You are trying to listen so you can be prepared if they ask you something.

"I agree, the market doesn't look good, but let's see if something changes once they apply the new policies," he says looking at both of you for a couple of seconds. "It's hard for new businesses, unfortunately."

You take a deep breath, knowing what he says is true and how it affects you. Still, you don’t comment on anything, just watching them.

Bucky leans in, laughing politely when the man cracks a bad joke, and you notice how a few hair strands fall on the side of his face and forehead.

Before your mind can register what you are doing, you find yourself leaning towards him and pushing the hair back. Then you notice what you’ve just done and freeze. Your hand lingers on his hair.

He freezes too, mid-sentence, and looks at your hand, his neck getting so red in just a few seconds.

"Oh, look at that. Your girlfriend is taking good care of you." The man in front of you teases.

“I’m sorry.” You try to retreat your hands as gracefully as possible so it won’t look suspicious. His hair is back in its place.

"Don't apologize." Bucky smiles, taking your hand into his. "She's always shy in public."

“I forgot for a second we are in public.” That’s not a lie. You really forgot your surroundings and how you were supposed to behave.

"What a beautiful girlfriend you have, Barnes."

You can feel your cheeks burning because of his words. You are not his girlfriend obviously, but will he point that out?

"She's also incredibly smart. You know, she started her own bakery a few months ago in this crazy market."

“Really?”

"Yes, with no help either. I'm really proud of her."

Did he just say he’s proud of you? Jesus christ…

“That doesn’t surprise me at all. You know why?” He’s directly asking you that question, and you just shake your head as in no. “Because he started his own company, probably around your age, too.”

"Michael..."

That you didn’t know. You had no idea how he got this rich, and hearing that makes you feel more hopeful.

“I’m just saying.” The man continues. “I can see why you like her. And she’s pretty lucky because she can get the best investment advice or tips on how to run a successful business from you.”

"Oh, trust me, I am luckier." He gives you the warmest smile you've ever received.

You have no idea what to say or do. Should you act like his girlfriend? Should you just smile and nod? That would be rude, wouldn’t it? You should return the compliment. You would definitely do that if he was your boyfriend.

“Oh, I know how lucky I am,” you say with a smile.

Bucky takes a quick look at his watch. "Alright, I think we need to go. Tomorrow is a long work day. Hope you don't mind." He shakes Michael's hand.

"It was nice to see you."

You are glad it’s finally time to leave. You were getting worried about how much longer you would have to stay here. Not because of him. Bucky seems like a perfectly nice guy, but this fancy place makes you uncomfortable. You gently smile while shaking Michael’s hand and take Bucky’s arm.

"Have a good evening. It was nice to meet you."

“It was nice meeting you too, Michael.”

"I'm sorry for that. Took too long," Bucky whispers in your ear.

“The event isn’t even over yet. We are leaving early.” He shouldn’t have to say sorry for something you agreed to do.

"Is it okay if we drive you home?" He gestures to his driver who's pulling in. You didn't even realize when he texted him.

“You don’t have to, I can take a cab.”

"At this hour?" He puffs. "Not in a thousand years. My driver can drop you off." Bucky offers instantly. It's clear he won't let this go.

“Only if it won’t be a bother…”

"Of course not." He gestures to his driver. "I want you to drop the lady off and make sure she gets inside safely, please. I'll take a cab."

“What?” You didn’t expect him to take a cab. “No, I can’t accept that.”

"Please. Also thank you for tonight, I am really grateful and I enjoyed having you here."

“Bucky…” You stop for a second, feeling hesitation over using his name. “Can I call you Bucky?”

"Of course."

“Bucky, thank you for tonight. I enjoyed it more than I expected. You are a gentleman, but I can’t take your car. I thought you meant dropping me at my place on your way home.”

"I thought..." he pauses. "You felt uncomfortable around me and that's why you refused the ride."

“No. Why would I feel uncomfortable around you?”

He smiles shyly and opens the door for you. "Alright, then let's go."

You really don’t know why he thought that and it bothers you. While you take your seat, you decide to apologize for what happened in there. Maybe that’s why he felt uneasy.

He looks absolutely confused when you actually say the words. "What?"

“I am just really sorry about what I did back there. I don’t know what came over me.”

"What did you do?”

“You know… Making you uncomfortable by fixing your hair.”

Bucky can't help but giggle softly. "Why would you apologize for that? That was very thoughtful, thanks."

His giggle catches you off guard. “I thought… I crossed a boundary.”

"No, not at all. Sorry for the boring conversations."

“It wasn’t that boring. I actually learned a couple of things.”

Bucky smiles. "Did you? Not surprised, you're a businesswoman after all."

“I try to be.” You smile back even though you are feeling kinda sad that your time with him is about to end.

"I think you have a big potential. You control your emotions very well. You are smart and know how to enjoy good wine." He gives you a playful but innocent wink as he says the last part.

“And now I know you, so I can ask for business advice.” You repeat Michael’s words very poorly.

Bucky nods. "Of course. And you know maybe I can help... with a donation."

“A donation?” You really didn’t mean to sound that offended, but you are.

He frowns. "Yeah, I really think you got potential in business and it's hard when no one helps you."

Talking about money always bothers you. Getting paid for going out with someone already feels wrong enough, but the way he walks about it makes you feel worse.

“Can we…. not… talk about this?” Your discomfort is much more clear in your voice than you realize.

"I-Of course, sorry if I bothered you," he immediately says apologetically.

“Talking about money like this bothers me and… just to be clear, I don’t want any help.”

"I understand. I wasn't trying to intrude."

You offer him a smile, but it doesn’t reach your eyes.

"I'm really so-"

"Is this the right address?" The driver interrupts Bucky all of a sudden.

“Yeah, it is.” Your answer comes instantly.

"Perfect."

“Thank you…” You stop for a minute realizing you don’t know his name. “I’m sorry I didn’t catch your name before.”

"Noah."

“Thank you, Noah.” Then you turn to Bucky. “And thank you for tonight, Bucky.”

"Thank you." You give him one more smile before opening the door. "Wait."

“What?”

"Are you free on 18?"

“I… think so. Why?”

"I have a proposal for you."

As the 18th comes closer, you get more worried about what to wear. You used your fanciest dress at that event and now your options are pretty limited. You search your closet and try to think of a friend who would let you borrow a dress. That’s when you finally see that simple black dress. That might work. When you put it on, your feelings are conflicted, though. It looks good on you, but it doesn’t seem good enough. You are not completely sure about how fancy this event is. Maybe… maybe you can ask him.

< Hey. Sorry to bother you but how fancy is this event?

> Hey, no bother. Like the one we attended.

> Why?

< I’m not sure about my dress. Is it okay if I show it to you? I don’t wanna be underdressed.

> I am sure that's impossible but of course.

You send a mirror selfie, showing your dress.

>You look very beautiful.

>The dress is absolutely amazing too, but it's a black-tie event. Would you consider me disrespectful if I sent my stylist to you?

< Thank you.

< No, of course not. I need help. I would appreciate it.

> Gonna send Lila a message and then I'll give her your number if that's okay.

< That’s perfectly okay. Thank you and again sorry to bother you with something like this.

> You don't bother me.

> I mean it.

< I know you are busy. That’s what I meant.

> Well, I am sure you are very busy yourself.

> How is the bakery and how was the meeting?

< I’m done working for the day. So I get to worry about the dress I’m gonna wear.

< The meeting went well but I didn’t hear anything from them yet.

> I hope it was a full day.

> I mean with many clients.

> And I hope they will give you a call.

< It was a tiring day. How was yours?

> Tiring, but productive, thank you for asking.

> Lila will call you in two minutes. She's a nice person. She manages to make me look decent every time.

< You look more than decent and I don’t think it’s all her doing.

5 minutes later

< Talked to Lila. We go shopping tomorrow. Thanks again for the help.

> Don't thank me for that. My pleasure. Have a good evening.

< You too.

The next day, you meet Lila and go shopping together like you agreed. She seems like a fun person and definitely understands your style. Her suggestions are great. but the only problem is the cost When you notice the price tags, you want to leave, but she assures you that it is all taken care of. That’s when you realize Bucky Barnes is paying for this shopping trip. You feel dumb for not thinking about this while talking to him. That’s why he was guarded when he offered help. That usually restlessness creeps up on you because you don’t want his help like this, but Lila convinces you that he is the reason you need new dresses anyway. And it is true. He is dressing you so you look the part. That eases your anxiety and finally, you are able to enjoy your dress hunt. When you come back home, you are completely exhausted but ready for any event he might want to take you.

> Hi

> How are you?

< I’m good, getting ready. How are you?

> I am good too.

> I was wondering if you mind me picking you up...

< You wanna pick me up?

> Yes. I might need your address again, though.

< Noah doesn’t remember?

< I am picking you up.

Oh.

> You should say no if you don't want that.

< No, why wouldn’t I? I just didn’t think you would come without your driver for some reason.

> Do you want me to come with Noah?

> I can.

< I don’t need someone extra to feel comfortable around you, Bucky.

< It’s up to you. Whatever you wanna do, I will be fine with it.

> Perfect 🙂

> 7:30 or 8? We should totally skip half an hour.

> So boring

< That emoji makes me feel like I did something wrong and you are being kind.

< Both are fine by me.

> See you at 8 then 😁

> Since you hate the other emoji

< Oh this one is much better.

< See you at 8. Leave your overthinking hat at home.

You quickly send him your address.

> Thank you

The evening comes even quicker than you expected. He picks you up alone and you have a great conversation on your way to the event. He gives you some pointers about it and the people you will most likely have to talk to and warns you that it’s gonna be boring. And he is right. It is even more boring than the first one. A lot of speeches and conversations with people you don’t know. You try to stay composed and play your part, trying to hide the fact that you are bored as fuck. Bucky comes to your rescue with a fun game. He makes funny comments and on-point jokes before and/or after you talk to someone. His observation skills are extraordinary. He notices stuff that you wouldn’t normally remark. Like a missing wedding ring, so he knows not the mention their spouse during their conversation. He whispers into your ear and makes you laugh the whole night. Hearing his voice that close, and feeling his breath on your neck drives you crazy. Does he know the effect he has on you? Is he doing it on purpose or is he just trying to pass the time as pleasantly as possible? You don’t know. Just like the first event, you leave a little bit early. He drives you back home, offers you a warm smile, and mentions when the next event will take place. You just nod in agreement, already looking forward to it.

> Friends or The Office?

> Also hi

< The Office. Love how intentionally awkward it is.

< Hiii back.

> How are you?

> Let me guess who you like the most

> Is he tall?

< Yeah genius, it’s Jim.

< I’m good, how are you?

> I knew you have taste.

> I am good. Now even better.

< Why better?

< Also who else could I like? He’s the only sane person in that office.

> Because I talk to you.

> So true.

He’s feeling better because he’s talking to you. God, that makes your blood rush.

< I like talking to you, too.

< Okay I have a question. What do you think of Karen?

> Karen? Don't make me be a hater while texting.

> It would never end.

> You?

< You know the word hater? I’m impressed.

< I don’t like her either. She tried too hard to make things work.

> I am 34, not 304!

> I feel offended

< It’s so easy to tease you.

> She is boring and annoying. More annoying than that douchebag.

< You mean Roy?

> Yeah

> That punching scene though

< God, that guy is a walking red flag.

< Pam was truly blind.

> She was. Sad...

< Favorite season?

> Hard.

> Very hard.

> Maybe 4.

> Yours?

< Either 4 or 6.

> Tastee

< You are starting to sound like me

> Well, I am older, so it's the other way around

< Sure old man. Whatever you say

> Old but handsome, to quote you

< I can’t be held responsible for the things I say when I’m tipsy.

> Excusess

< Shh you are exposing me too much

As time passes, your conversations become friendlier. You don’t feel like this is something you have to do just to keep your business going. It feels like you two enjoy each other’s company. It feels like flirting. Yet you are not sure if that’s how he feels about all this, too.

> Hi. Are you home?

< Yeah?

> in a few minutes you might have a delivery

< A delivery?

< Bucky what did you buy this time?

> I can sense a tone

< Can you?

> A bratty tone.

> You'll see when it comes.

Just a few minutes later you open the door and see a huge bouquet of flowers.

< Jesus Bucky!

< These are so pretty!

< Thank youu.

> No complaining, huh?

> Glad you like them.

> I can complain if that’s what you want.

> I want you to be good and put them in a vase.

< They are already in a vase, sir.

You send a photo of the flowers in your prettiest vase.

> Great.

< I can’t stop smelling them.

> Noted

< I’ve got something to show you. Well two things because I can’t decide.

> Waiting

You send two mirror selfies in two different dresses. The first one is a black dress with a high slit on the right side. The other one is a simple pastel pink dress but the cleavage is on display a little.

< Which one should I wear for the next event?

> You think I am the right person to choose?

< I am your date, aren’t I?

> They both look great.

> Depends on what you want.

< That’s what I think too!

< And that’s why I can’t decide.

< Please help me out.

> Pink?

< Pink it is.

< Thank you.

What you didn't expect from this arrangement is how your attachment grows more and more every time you see Bucky. He makes it hard not to miss him with his smile and his jokes, the way he tries to integrate you and always asks how you feel. Truth be told, you're not even professional anymore and you catch yourself wanting to make a move on him every time he compliments you. But you can't, so you're forced to wait for him to do it. And you really hope he will.

You probably put too much faith in a rich person because when you see your notification from the banking app, you have to refrain from making a scene. You check twice just to be sure. For some reason, you are paid double the amount for this date and it’s not because he missed any previous payments. No, he just decided to pay you more the moment you started to grow closer.

When you look at him, he immediately catches something's wrong and leans in to whisper.

"What happened?"

“I don’t wanna talk about it right now.” Because you know if you do, your whole act will be exposed.

Bucky nods and looks at the rest of the table. "We're gonna head back home now. It was really nice to see you."

His reaction surprises you. You have the whole night ahead of us and he already paid you double. Why does he want to leave already?

"Of course. Have a good evening!"

“Oh, are you really leaving this early?” Someone else asks.

"Yes. We have plans for tomorrow pretty early in the morning."

“Ah! Too bad. Still, it was nice seeing you two.”

You both nod before you make your way to the door. You absently watch him asking for both of your coats and holding the door for you.

The way he’s acting like everything is fine infuriates you more. You really hoped something was going to happen between you two. It felt like you were headed in that direction, but you are not so sure anymore. Maybe he never saw it that way. Maybe he was thinking the worst of you and he’s just paying you more for everything he considers extra. It makes you feel nauseous.

"I should have made them change the plate… Do you have an allergic reaction?"

“Yeah, I am having an allergy reaction.” You lash out as soon as you feel safe to react. “An allergic reaction to you trying to buy everything.”

"What?" He looks at you so confused as if he didn't double paid you a moment ago.

“Tell me it’s just a mistake and you didn’t do it on purpose.”

"Do what? Pay you?"

Oh… He did it on purpose. And just like that the last hope you were hanging on vanishes.

“Yeah, pay me double just as we were getting closer. Is that all I am to you?”

"All you are to me?" He repeats shocked.

“Someone you can pay for whatever you want.” You don’t wait for an answer. You just keep going. “Of course, that’s all I am. What else can I be? It’s my fault for accepting this… deal. I put myself in this position. Why would you see me as someone other than a hooker.”

"Stop!" He screams back but not as loudly as you do. "What are you saying? What the actual fuck? When did I even imply that? Paying you double has nothing to do with disrespecting you! Contrary!"

“You don’t have to say it! The moment we started to get closer, you decided to pay me double. I don’t need to be Einstein to put 2 and 2 together.”

He scrunches his nose. "How about us getting closer and me wanting to help you, huh? Did that ever cross your mind? Me wanting to help you pay your debt faster, knowing the effort you make to accompany me to these," he gestures to the place behind you. "But no, of course, you didn't because you think the lowest of me. That I would believe I can buy you and your affection!"

“Help me?” He must be joking. “When I specifically told you I don’t want help!”

"I just don't want you to struggle. Is it so bad?" His voice is soft now while he stares at you, trying to show you he's entirely honest

“Have you ever stopped for a second and thought how getting help would make me feel? I’ll tell you. It makes me feel like a failure.”

"You're not a failure. And getting help doesn't make anything you did and do less important, especially since it's small. Please..." he sighs. "Let's continue talking in the car at least, it's freezing. You shouldn't get sick."

“Fine. I will get in, but this… this conversation is not over.” He’s right. It’s freezing and you can’t take it anymore.

He nods gratefully and opens the door for you, which you close with force.

As soon as he gets in the car and starts the engine, he turns on the ac, giving you a look. You keep taking deep breaths and avoid looking at him.

"Please... do you really think that low of me?"

"I don't know what to think anymore." You finally look back at him. "Are you gonna drive or are we gonna have this conversation here?"

"I don't want to drive you home upset. I want to talk about it..."

You stop for a second, consider your options. You can't have this conversation in a public place. "Your place or mine?"

Money is clearly not an issue for him so he probably didn't even blink to pay you double you realize as you get inside the house. You try not to look around too curiously. Your image in his eye is already as bad as it could get.

"How low do you think of me?" He repeats the same question while he starts to take off his shoes.

“I should be asking you that question.”

"You're the one who thinks I tried to buy you as a hooker."

“What were you trying to do then if not buying my affection? And don’t tell me helping!”

"To help."

“I don’t want help!” You don’t notice how loud you are. “I don’t want anyone’s help! I have to do this on my own. Is that so hard to understand?”

"Yes and no." He sighs. "I get this drive, I had it too, but I wish you could try to see... that you don't have to do this alone. But instead, you think I see you as someone buyable."

“Imagine when you started your business and had debt, someone had the means to help you, just give you money like it’s nothing and you don’t get to pay it back. Would you accept it? Would you think it’s your success if someone helped you out like that? Just be honest and answer.”

"Fuck no." He sighs. "But you deserve the money. And you put up with the events and your business..."

“Fuck no indeed. I want to do this myself. I have to prove myself I’m not a failure like my-” You stop yourself from finishing that sentence.

"What? Like what?"

“It doesn’t matter. I just need to prove that to myself, okay?”

"How could you think you are failing when you already did so much?

“As long as this business doesn’t succeed, whatever I’ve done so far does not matter. Only the result matters.” You don’t notice you are repeating your father’s words.

"That is bullshit. You think success is based on wins only?"

“It doesn’t feel like winning when you are worried about paying the next month's salaries.”

"That's a worry that honestly doesn't stop. Or at least not for me. Success means failure and worries sometimes. Success means trying and holding on."

“I’m not here to have a conversation about what you view as success, Bucky. I’m here because I’m mad at you.”

"You're mad at me, but you think I am an awful person." He starts taking off his jacket.

“I’m mad at you because you can’t pay me double just because you want to. That’s not how real life works.”

"Oh, really?" He smiles sarcastically. "I should totally give zero shits about you worrying about paying salaries and having student debt. Totally real-life fun stuff."

“Student debt? How do you even know about that?”

"You mentioned it."

“I don’t remember mentioning my student debt to you.”

He puffs, not breaking eye contact. "I have ears."

“You heard me mentioning my student debt and decided to pay me double?” He’s unbelievable.

"Yes."

“Do you have any idea how much you were paying me before?”

Bucky blushes embarrassed and strokes his beard. "No..."

“You were already paying me nearly a monthly salary. Just for going on a date with you once a week. Do you have any idea how it made me feel seeing that double payment in my account while I was hoping for…”

"Fuck, I want to say I am sorry, but I am not. I am not buying you, no matter how low you think of me. I want to help you. I thought we are already friends."

“Friends.” You give him a bitter smile. “Friends don’t pay each other.”

"Friends help each other." He is getting closer to you.

“Not without the other one asking for help.”

"You're impossible." He sighs. "You can pay me back at some point." He is so serious.

“Which point will that be?”

"Whenever you won't be worried about salaries."

“You said it yourself, that time never comes.”

"Please, doll." He closes his eyes, not even realizing what he said.

“Please what?”

"Can we just stop fighting?"

“We can if you stop paying me.”

"It's your money. You come with me every time. This event was more boring than usual... consider this a bonus for putting up with it and me."

“I don’t want- I don’t need that.”

"Why not? It's just for now." He seems upset. "Do you want nothing to do with me anymore?"

“I don’t need money to… enjoy my evening with you. I was actually hoping for you to… you know… stop paying me soon.”

"You want to end this?" He doesn't even try to hide his disappointment. His voice starts trembling.

“I want to end the payments.”

"So no more events..."

“I didn’t say that. I said I don’t want you to pay me for that anymore.”

"Oh." Bucky thinks a little. "You want to come to meet more people?"

“Dear god… You are so dense for a smart businessman sometimes!”

"You are calling me dumb."

“Yeah, because you are being dumb or just acting dumb, I don’t know anymore. You can call me if you want me to accompany you as your friend… or date, okay? It’s up to you now.” You reach for your stuff to leave his place.

"I just want to know why you'd find it so bad for me to pay you. Would you not pay me?"

“Don’t you really see the implication?”

"What implication? Tell me what you think."

“Would you pay me if we had sex?”

He freezes, completely taken aback. "What?"

“You heard what I said. Would you love me like you paid me, too?”

"You want to fuck me?" He asks unsure. As if he doesn’t know if he heard you right.

“Do you need things spelled out for you like this?”

"Do you mean it?"

“I have already said too much, Bucky. I think it’s better if I go.”

He grabs your hand when you turn toward the door. "I don't think you said enough."

“You want me to embarrass myself more?” He rolls his eyes. “I think I have made myself clear enough. Time for me to leave.”

"Come on." He smiles. "You didn't say anything."

You let a frustrated breath out. “Take care, Bucky.”

"Doll, please. You can't leave in the middle of a conversation like this!"

“Of course, I can leave. What else is there to talk about?”

"You asked if I'd pay you for sex."

“And I think I got my answer.”

"No, I would not pay you for sex."

“Because you didn’t even consider that option.”

He puffs, and you notice sweat drops on his neck. "Why did you even ask that? I already said I do not consider you buyable."

He is very close now, holding both of your hands and staring into your soul.

“Because that’s how I feel every time you pay me to spend time with you.”

"God, doll. You are really fucking impossible. You think I don't want to kiss you or fuck you? I think about it all the goddamn time if I let myself, but we had an arrangement..."

“And that’s why I wanna end the arrangement.”

"Done." His answer is instant.

“So you can take me out on a normal date, maybe.”

"Yeah?" He wraps his arms around your waist, making you drop both: your coat and bag. But you don’t look down even when they hit the floor.

“If you want…” You feel your voice suddenly getting smaller.

"May I kiss you?"

“Only if you aren’t gonna ask permission for everything.”

He snorts. "Just answer."

“You may.”

He does, moving a hand to your chin as he immediately tries to deepen the kiss. The way he kisses you takes you by surprise. You didn’t expect him to start this kiss so strongly, but you definitely aren’t complaining. His other hand goes from your waist to your ass, grabbing it over your pants. You gasp in surprise, which interrupts the kiss.

He smiles. "Hi."

“Hi.” You try to catch your breath while he starts to kiss down your neck without warning. Your right hand trails up from his neck to his hair as you let out a low moan.

"Fuck." He starts sucking on a spot below your collarbone.

“Jesus, Bucky…” You try to sound as normal as possible. “Take a girl out to dinner first.”

"You want dinner?"

“Well, not right now.”

"What do you want right now?"

“Just keep doing what you were doing.”

He kisses you so sloppily, his hands going under your shirt without realizing. You wrap your hands around his neck and close the remaining distance between your bodies.

"Fuck, you taste so good."

“Maybe it’s the lipstick.” You joke and without letting him answer, you start to kiss him again, immediately using your tongue. He moans in the middle of the kiss and then opens his mouth a little further, inviting you in. Your hands go to the buttons of his shirt.

"Oh, fuck."

“Can I take this off?” You ask for permission the way he did before.

"Please." He is breathing slowly, looking at your hands

You take your time unbuttoning the shirt, testing his patience.

"Doll, please." His mouth finds your neck.

“Please what?”

"Faster."

“That part comes later,” You say with a suggestive tone and he snorts, leaving another kiss on your neck.

"Left you a few pretty marks."

“Maybe I should give you some too.”

"Later." When you finally finish unbuttoning, he takes it off in a heartbeat. "Hope you won't hate me."

“For what?” He simply rips your shirt in half in response. “Bucky!” His hands grab your bra while you are still talking. “That was an expensive top!”

"Was." He just rips off the bra, too. "Just like this was on you. Past tense.”

"Do not!" You lift your finger. "Rip off anything else!"

He bites that finger without hesitation, sucking in it further. You try to take your finger back.

“Jesus Bucky, how am I gonna go back home now?”

"What? You want to go home?"

“I have to go home eventually, you know.”

"I have clothes, you know?" He starts to take off your belt. "Pants too." You can see he wants to get rid of them too.

“You want me to leave your house in your clothes?”

He kisses her. "What?"

You take a deep, annoyed breath. “Fine, I will worry about this later.”

"May I rip these too?"

“No. No more ripping, please.”

"Alright," he says disappointed but lets you take off your pants while he’s simply staring at your breasts.

“At least I have this to wear while going back home,” you say, swinging your underwear.

"You talk so much about leaving."

“Hmm, do I?”

"Yeah." He's obviously trying not to show he's upset, but he's failing. And this makes you happy… the fact he doesn’t want you to leave.

“Does it bother you?”

"No," he whispers and looks at his own pants. "I can just make you feel good, you know? No rush, then I'll drive you home as you want."

You reach for his pants and start to unbuckle it. “I have a mind that… keeps on worrying. I think about stuff I have to do later constantly, but there’s a way to turn it off. At least for a while.”

He tries to stop you. "I can make you feel good, drive you home and take you on a date tomorrow."

You finally understand what he actually means. “What? No. That’s not what I want.”

"Okay. Just wanted to make sure you understand we can stop like any time."

“Oh, I know. I just don’t want to.”

"Okay." He smiles and lets his hands fall down.

“I feel like you are tiptoeing around me. Where’s that Bucky I see at these boring events every week?”

"He's here, just trying to do everything right. But I don't know what you mean by that Bucky."

"I mean that Bucky who doesn't hesitate."

"This is different though. I don't want you to think I am a douche, you know?" He sighs. "I don't want you uncomfortable."

"Your hesitation gives me anxiety. And I know you by now. You don't need to worry about that." You push his pants down and they pool around his ankles. Impatiently, he takes off his boxers himself and steps out of them.

"Alright then. Should we move to the bedroom?"

But you are too busy to finally look at him, all naked, to hear him. He looks better than you anticipated and that makes you even more eager to touch him.

He tries not to smile, but it's hard.

“Uhm… what?”

"Nothing, nothing. Keep going."

“Okay.” You move closer and start kissing him again. You grab him gently yet firmly and start moving your hand slowly, just to get him used to the feeling.

"Fuck." He moans against your lips. "Feels good."

You gently bite his lower lip while you keep moving your hand. It’s still slow, but you pay attention to grab his balls and brush against the tip, just to see his reactions

"Doll..."

“Hmm?” You stop kissing him and look into his eyes as you decide to kneel down.

"Doll, no." He groans. "Fuck, I really dreamed about this, but let's go to bed."

“If you dreamed about it, why are you saying no?”

"Because we can do something else fun for you too."

“Oh, believe me, this is fun.” You take your tongue out, swiping it on the shaft from the bottom to the top, making him moan immediately. “Do you want me to stop?” You ask, your lower lip touching the tip. He doesn't even seem to hear you.

“Hmm…” And that’s your answer. You take the tip into your mouth, gently licking. "Oh, shit," He moans and without thinking he wraps his hand around your ponytail.

Your tongue swirls around the tip, occasionally swiping on that sensitive spot that makes him moan really loudly. "Holy fuck." He's fully playing with your hair now. "Baby, please..." He doesn't seem to know what he's begginh for though.

“Hmm?” You silently ask while your tongue keeps working on him.

"We should... stop."

You take your mouth off him for a second, just enough to ask: “Why?” Then you take him right back inside your mouth.

"I'm gonna come," he says a little embarrassed.

He might have wanted you to stop because of that, but you have no intention of doing it. You want him to feel good, so you grab the shaft, moving it up and down while you take your mouth off for a few more seconds.

“Then come.”

Your tongue goes back to the tip, moving in sync with your hand. He can't even ask you if he should pull out because he's already coming in your mouth. You keep moving your head and hand until he finally hisses because of overstimulation.

"Doll."

You look at him while swallowing. “Yeah?”

"Thank you so much, I'm just... fuck me," he groans at the sight in front of him. There is something absolutely sinful about you like this. "I am just really sensitive."

“That’s normal.” You kiss his cock really gently on a spot that wouldn’t cause any discomfort. He lets go of your hair and smiles. You quickly wipe away that line of come dripping down to your chin before he helps you stand up and kisses you hard. You are already unbelievably wet, but the way he uses his tongue takes it to another level. He lifts you in his arms when you least expect and a yelp leaves your lips.

"Gonna take you to the bedroom."

“Yeah, okay.” You wrap your legs around his torso, trying to hide your excitement.

"I'm gonna eat you, okay?" He opens the door with his leg.

The way he says it sends shivers down your spine. You can feel the throbbing between your legs.

"You want to ride my face, pretty doll? Or do you want me on my knees?"

“God…” You think for a second, both options being tempting. “On your knees.”

"You want me on my knees? Want me to beg to eat your pussy?"

“Would you?”

"Beg for it?" He puffs. "For you? Of course."

“Jesus fucking Christ…”

"Just Bucky." He puts you down on the bed and kneels. You laugh a little. His nervousness is definitely fading away. He smiles and starts kissing below your knee. "Please, can I eat you, baby?"

“Oh god… I wanna hear that again.”

"I am begging. Please, allow me." He kisses all the way up.

“It’s all yours.”

He makes the most animalistic sound you've heard from his mouth before and lifts both of your legs over his shoulders.

"Gonna let me do it over and over again?"

“I might wanna do different things in between, but yes…” That makes him smile.

"Thank you." Then he finally starts licking at your entrance.

The first moan you let out sounds like you are trying to catch your breath. Bucky's fingers dig into your thighs when he properly enters you with his tongue.

“Oh god...” That feels amazing. He says nothing, trying to move his tongue around for a little while testing what you like. You instinctively move your hips a little, forcing his tongue closer to your clit.

"Fuck." You barely hear him say as he properly moves his mouth to your clit.

“Yess!” You shake with excitement. Bucky starts to flick his tongue gently on your clit, bringing his hand to your entrance. You don’t realize how you are moving your hips to create more friction. And he adds the first finger inside you without stopping his tongue motion.

“Ahh, yes.” It sounds like you have been waiting for this forever. His free hand goes up just to squeeze and massage each breast as he adds his second finger.

“Bucky, fuck!” It feels like he’s everywhere. His flicks turn into full licks while his fingers move faster.

“I’m gonna- I’m gonna- come.” You can already feel your legs shaking. He continues the pace exactly like this and moans against your clit.

“Oh fuck. Oh fuckk. God, please- don’t stop. Please.” He doesn't stop, he couldn't even if he tried, eager to make you come.

After a few seconds, something snaps inside you and finally, you feel loose. Your whole body is shaking and you can’t get enough of the way he makes you feel. The movement of his tongue, the way his fingers move… And it doesn’t end quickly. No, he keeps going and you feel the same high over and over again until it’s too much to bear. You stop him by grabbing a handful of his hair.

“That was… incredible.” He smiles, raising his head enough for you to see how wet he is. “Jesus…” His beard is soaked. You had no idea you were that wet.

"Just Bucky." He repeats the same joke as he licks his lips.

“Your beard… it’s so wet.” You are too shocked to react to his joke.

"Wanna clean it for me?" He winks and god, he looks so charming.

“Come here.” You open your arms.

He hugs you immediately, his beard making contact directly with your breasts as he’s spreading your wetness all over them.

"Oops." He giggles. "Guess I have to clean up my mess."

You giggle, too. “You know you don’t need an excuse to suck my nipples, right?”

"What? This is not what I'm doing. I like to clean."

And just like that, you feel Bucky's tongue all over your tits, making sure to avoid your nipples.

“Hmm… That feels good.” He bites a little the skin on your left breast, and you whine in response.

"Hurting?"

“A little.”

"Sorry, baby." He sucks a little around the bite as an apology.

"It's fine. Come here and gimme a kiss."

"No." He gets stubborn and he finally takes the first nipple into his mouth.

You grab his hair and force him away from your nipple. "You are so stubborn."

"You like pulling my hair."

"I was thinking about pulling it for a long time."

"Why didn't you?"

"Well, I touched it instead of pulling. On our first date."

"Yes." He smiles giving you a small kiss. "Not enough."

“There’s no way I could pull your hair there, you know.”

"True. I would moan."

"You and me both." You giggle again.

"So you felt okay?"

"Okay?"

He smiles. "More than okay?"

"You have no idea how okay that was."

"Probably not. You get to feel pleasure in ways I never will."

"Poor you. We should totally try to change that."

He snorts. "You want to suck me again? Or do you want to fuck me?"

"I want you to fuck me."

"Yeah?" He kisses your cheeks. "That's easy."

"Yeah?" Your hips move a little, rubbing against his erection. "Then what are you waiting for?"

"Gonna be right back." He tries to get up, but you stop him.

"Condom?"

"Yep. Any preference?"

"Yeah, none if possible."

Bucky looks at you confused. "What?” He thinks maybe you meant the flavor. “I can find one without it."

"I meant no condom because I'm on the pill, so it's up to you."

"You sure?" You aren’t sure if he’s excited or surprised.

"Why wouldn't I be? As long as you are clean."

"Want me to bring my blood tests?"

You laugh a little because you know he means it and you couldn’t help but imagine him dutifully showing you the papers. "I will take your word for it, Mr. Barnes."

"Mr Barnes?" He repeats amused as he spreads your legs properly. "Are you gonna call me that when I come inside you, too?"

"Mr. Barnes sounds too formal for that. Gotta find something else for that moment."

He grabs and positions himself at your entrance. "I'm sure you're creative."

You push your hips impatiently. "I will find something fitting."

He enters you without waiting, but he's careful not to hurt you so he stops for a little. You throw your head back because of the way you feel with his cock inside you. A lower, nearly animalistic moan escapes your lips.

"Oh god."

"Please move."

He kisses you gently as he finally starts to thrust slowly. You are so wet that he's moving so smoothly, dragging your walls every time he pulls back and then filling you up all over again.

"Aren't you a wet little doll?" He shifts his weight on his elbows that he places on both sides of your head.

"I’m so unbelievably wet."

"Perfect." He buries his head into your neck and starts to move faster.

“I have been… imagining how… this would feel.”

"Did you dream about it?" He doesn’t miss the chance to ask that.

“Once.”

"Only once?" He tries not to sound disappointed, but he fails.

“Yeah, and I was surprised because I don’t dream about sex.”

"How?" He starts sucking harder.

“Ahh.” You moan softly. “During one of those fancy events.”

"Fuck." He lifts his head to look at you. "Did you dream of me fucking you in the closet? Or the baby changing room?"

“In a dark closet. Suddenly you are all over me.”

"Fucking you from behind? Or holding my baby?"

“You were holding me and- ahh. I was trying to- stay quiet. But- you kept fucking me- harder.” His hips move so fast now you can barely speak.

"Did you scream?"

“I was about to, but I woke up suddenly.”

"Fuck." He groans. "The worst. Did you finish the job?"

“Yeah.” You breathe out. “I was so fucking wet.”

"Just...." He closes his eyes. "I'm imagining you using your little fingers under your panties to play with your clit- Shit."

“And it wasn’t enough.”

"No? Poor baby." He leans in to bite your bottom lip for a few seconds.

“It was frustrating.” You moan when he moves his hips a little harder. “Nowhere near… this.”

"Nothing like my cock? Like us?"

“Nuh-huh.”

"God, can't wait to come inside you... to see you dripping."

“Shit, Bucky. You can’t just say things like that.” It makes you clench hard. You need to come. Now.

"Why not? So fucking hot." His thrusts slow down but become deeper at the same time. "Dripping down your thighs. Gonna clean that up for you and share it." He curses. "Gonna pass you my come in a kiss."

“Oh fuck.” His words, the image just pushes you over that edge. “I’m coming. Oh fuck, please don’t come. Not yet. Please.”

"Why not? Do you want me to pull out?" He teases.

“I need one more.” You say while shaking hard. “Just one more.”

"I'm right here," he whispers assuringly. “I'm inside you, not going anywhere. I dreamed about you too." He pauses to curse. "Fuck, I was fucking my bed."

“Tell me… tell me about it.” The orgasm keeps washing you in waves. Over and over again until it fades away.

"You were in my office at work. Came to talk about a gala or we were leaving from there, I don’t know. And we just... we were suddenly kissing and I was ripping off your dress. And I was simply fucking you all over the desk."

“How did it feel?”

"Not even close to this, but it was good. So good. I almost came in my sleep."

“You didn’t come?” You finally feel like your breath is going back to normal.

"I stroked myself after I woke up and came. A lot."

“Made a big mess because of me?”

"Mhm." He brings his fingers to your lips. "And you weren't there to help me."

“I’m here now.”

"Gonna help me this time?" His index finger plays with her bottom lip.

“Oh, I will.” You bite his finger gently. “And no mess this time. I’m here to take every drop of your come.”

"You sure you can?" He teases. "What if it's too much?"

“It’s all mine. I don’t care if it’s too much.”

"I'm all yours."

“Oh, Bucky.” You feel like you are melting. You kiss him on the lips passionately. “I’m all yours, too.”

"Yeah?" He smiles and starts thrusting faster. "Aren't you a pretty little doll? All mine, ready to take my come."

“Yours.” You repeat and that familiar pleasure starts to build up again, but you want to try something else. Something you have been imagining. “Can you… flip me over?”

"Sure," he answers a little surprised, and helps you move.

“I have been imagining how this would feel.”

"Thought you did it only once."

“You know dreaming and imagining are different things, right?” You tease him. You can’t see his expression, but you know he made a face right after hearing your words.

"How many times did you imagine it?'

“Oh, who knows? A lot of times.”

"Tell me what did you imagine when we were like this." He squeezes your hips, so turned on to see your on all fours.

“You fucking me hard.”

"How hard?" He teases leaning in to kiss your back.

“As hard as you can.”

As soon as he starts to properly thrust inside you, a few gasps and whimpers leave his mouth. The positions opens you up in a different way.

"God, this is... fuck me."

“Yeah, I would say- the same.” It’s hard to speak when he is pounding you like this.

"You're making such a mess on the bed, baby. Around my cock. God, so fucking wet."

“Should I apologize for the mess?” You ask cheekily because he seems so gone.

"You should." He squeezes your ass. "By making a bigger mess."

“I think- that’s- possible.”

"Yeah?" He fucks you even harder, properly using his knees and your hips. "You gonna come?"

“Yeah! Please!”

"Please what?"

“Please, daddy.” The words leave your lips before your mind can register them.

"Holy fuck, what did you just say?" He barely manages to keep going, just slowing down. He looks at you as if he doesn't know if he imagined something, and that's how you realize what you said.

“Shit! I’m sorry. I’m really sorry.” You start to panic.

"Hey, baby." His voice is soft, assuring. "What are you sorry for?"

“I didn’t mean to say it out loud. I was just… thinking that.”

"God, baby." He tries to turn your head to look into your eyes by grabbing your chin and titling it up. "You think of me as your daddy?"

“Is it bad if I do?”

"Yeah, it's bad because I can come any second when you call me that." He kisses your forehead. "Be a good girl for daddy and try to come, okay?"

“God, Bucky.” You moan because of his words. You’ve imagine this, indeed, a lot of times, but hearing it? It’s something that can’t be described.

He pulls your hair. "Daddy."

“Oh, fuck.” It turns you on even more and you don’t know how that’s even possible. “Yes, daddy.”

"Did you imagine this, too?" He is leaving you breathless with the way he is pounding you, yet he still demands an answer. "Did you imagine calling me daddy while I fuck you like this?"

“Yes.” You are so close to coming. So close that you can taste it. “I did- so many times.”

One of his hands finds your right breast and sqeezes. "Please, come for daddy. Gonna be a good girl and come?"

“Oh fuck. Oh fuck. Oh fuuckk, I’m coming!” The way your orgasm hits you makes you lose the last drop of control you had over your body. You can’t think of anything beside Bucky and how good he’s making you feel. His pace quickens for a second before he comes. He doesn't manage to warn you he's coming too, but he doesn't have to. His moan and the feeling of his come are enough.

He keeps it going until both of you finish and when you do, the only thing that you can hear is your loud breaths. Then you feel a trail of kisses all over your back.

“Oh my god,” you finally manage to speak.

"Just Bucky." He reaches your neck. "Or daddy."

You laugh. “God, you are so smug.”

"Smug?" He smiles and pokes your skin with his tongue.

You turn around, finally fully facing him. “Yeah, daddy is real smug.” It feels so good to be able to call him that without worrying about anything else.

"Thank you."

“Who knew Bucky Barnes had a daddy kink?” You can’t help but say.

"Not Bucky Barnes himself." He snorts.

“You just found out?”

"Yeah." He burst into laughter a bit embarrassed. He’s never thought about being called daddy before, especially not in bed, but with you? With you, it just makes sense. It feels hot.

“Oh god, I am so lucky.”

"Did you always have a daddy kink?"

“I didn’t even know I had one before meeting you.”

Bucky's smile is so big. "Fuck, I am the lucky one." He kisses you properly now, immediately trying to open your mouth by licking your bottom lip.

“I thought I would freak you out, but look at you, fully embracing it.”

"How could I not?"

“You liked it that much, daddy?” You wrap your arms around his neck playfully.

"God, I did. You're so hot when you say it. And the way you looked at me."

“How did I look at you?”

"Can't even explain it... I just wanna see that over and over again.”

“Well, you can.”

He scrunches his nose in the most adorable way possible. "Thank you."

“For what?”

"For everything. And for wanting me."

You frown because of that last part. “What does that even mean?”

"Boring older man."

“Handsome older man, who I have been fantasizing about for a while.”

He giggles shily. "You make me sound like a dirty dream."

“Well, it’s because you are.”

"You are mine too."

“Lucky us.”

"You might never get rid off me." He kisses your forehead.

“I might be okay with that.”

It has been a while since you started to date Bucky. After that night, everything slowly started to fall into place. You found a great balance between your lives and your relationship, always making time for each other. You spend a lot of nights at his place. It doesn’t feel like his anymore, it feels like you are living together. Everything is so natural.

“I just got the most unexpected call ever,” you say, still feeling fairly surprised by the job you got offered.

"What was it about?" Bucky is still in bed, surprisingly. He's usually the first the get up and go to the kitchen in the morning.

“Mrs. Moore called me to ask me if my bakery could do the catering for their next event.”

"Oh my god. That’s amazing."

“It is! But I am not sure if I can actually do it.”

Bucky frowns and immediately taps on the bed. "Come here."

You listen to him and continue talking while moving closer. “I haven’t given her the final answer yet, I acted like I need to check in to see if we are available, but the more I think about it, the more I notice how hard it would be.”

"I am gonna say something, but I don't think you'll like it."

“You will say you can help me out.”

"Yep." He gives you the biggest smile. "But it doesn't take away anything from your success or your efforts, okay? Just hear me out."

You take a deep breath. “Okay. I’m listening.” You have been warming up to the idea of him helping you. Maybe not financially, but he has been helping you. He has the best ideas and a great perspective. So you won’t say no to hearing him out.

He reaches to hold your hand.

"Let me take care of the transport and hire the extra stuff who can serve at the party. I'll call a friend." He pauses. "Just this once, okay? You can curse me out later, bit let me help so you can get more jobs in the future. This is a great opportunity."

“How did you even know I needed help with transport?”

"Baby," Bucky giggles at your confused pouty face. "It's a first experience. You don't have employees for this and it's a big party." Then he shurgs, like it wasn’t that hard to guess.

“Transport, service staff, and extra place to store the food. These are the problems I need to solve if I wanna do this.” You list the things you need to be able to take this job.

"Is that a yes?"

“That’s an I am considering it.”

In response, he simply raises on his knees and kisses you, with his hands on your neck. "Good girl."

“I didn’t say yes yet!”

"Ihm."

“If you assume I will say yes, it’s definitely gonna be a no.”

"No, I am very, very, very fucking horny right now."

“Just because I might say yes to your offer for help?”

Bucky blushes. "It's very hot. And I'm so hard..."

“Jesus… You really want a sugar baby, don’t you?” He must have. He loves the idea of taking care of your every need. That would explain why.

"I just like doing this for you."

“Do you like being useful or do you like spoiling?” You insist. You want him to say it.

He makes a sound from the back of his throat. "Can we just focus on you?"

“No, please… Tell me why exactly this turns you on.”

"I don't know." You see the sides of his neck getting red.

“But I wanna know.”

"Please, just..."

“Gimme an answer and I will give you one back.”

He takes a deep breath but doesn't look at you. "I just love spoiling you even though you don't let me."

You smile. “I might let you a little bit.”

"Just..." He sighs embarrassed. "Just ignore me, okay?"

“This is me… saying yes.” You spell it out for him.

"For my help?" He finally looks at you.

“Yeah.”

"Wow.” He sounds completely surprised. “This is... great." He tries to keep his emotions under control. "Then go ahead and uhm, call Moore back as I send a few messages, okay?"

“She can wait a little bit longer.” You gently grab his erection. He has gotten really excited just because you let him help you. It’s just unbelievable yet you love it. You love that he cares about you this much. “I need to take care of daddy first.”

3K notes · View notes

hydrangeapartridge · 2 months ago

Text

In Sickness and In Health

Summary: Emmrich gets sick but Rook and Manfred are here for him.

Part of my EmmRook post game short stories (Cross-posted here on AO3 or check the EmmRookvtag on my page for other stories)

Warning for potential end game spoilers and angst (but with comfort)

Enjoy!

Emmrich was an early riser. To her chagrin, it wasn’t often that Rook got to wake up next to him. There were still benefits to her lover’s waking hour of course, namely that she was often waken up by the lovely scent of breakfast and a gentle caress or kiss from her lover, all fresh and dapper and smelling of lotion and cologne.

Their morning routine was so unchanging that Rook was surprised on, one particular morning, to find Emmrich still sleeping beside her. Especially when she remembered he was supposed to meet with a student very early. One look to theposition of the sun outside and she knew Emmrich was late. Except Emmrich was NEVER late. He could, on rare occasions, be fashionnably tardy, but never hours late.

Emmrich grunted in his sleep, and Rook noticed his eyebrows were drawn together in an uncomfortable grimace and that sweat was perling down his forehead. He was probably having a nightmare. How sad that he overslept only to be faced with unpleasant dreams. Rook pressed a hand against his shoulder and gently called his name until he opened his eyes with a disgruntled noise. But his expression softened the second he saw Rook’s lovely face.

“Darling” He greeted her, voice hoarse from sleep. “Good morning” He groggily told her with a lazy smile.

“Good morning my heart” Rook chuckled before her smile dropped as she was saddened to inform him of how late it was. “I’m sorry I woke you but I thought you told me you were supposed to meet with a student in the morning? Have your plans changed?”

Rook was barely able to finish her sentence before Emmrich bolted out of bed. “Goodness! Why didn’t I wake up sooner!”

Rook watched her lover make one step barefoot out of bed before he wobbled and had to slow down. He caught himself on the nighstand and Rook was quick to rush to his side.

“Oh dear” Emmrich mumbled, out of breath from the bare effort of getting up.

“Emmrich are you alright?” Rook asked, worried, her hand coming to rest on his arm, ready to support him is needed.

“Well, I feel a little dizzy.But I’m sure it’s only because I didn’t take the proper time to get out of bed” He tried to reassure her.

However Rook started noticing his silken pajamas were drenched in cold sweat. She stretched until she was able to place a hand on his cheek, then his forehead to confirm her suspicions.

“Emmrich you are possitively burning up!” She exclaimed.

“Oh I do feel a little hot. And I have a headache from reading too much last night” He said. “And I’m not sure what we ate yesterday agreed with my stomach.” The more he went on, the more Rook stared at him in disbelief. “But nothing a good cup of tea can’t fix” He concluded.

He tried to take another step. “How sweet of you to worry for me dearest but I assure you I feel fine. Now I do need to hurry, I have to.. hum I need to…”

Emmrich seemed lost, his thoughts scrambled in his head. No doubt from the fever he was so sure he didn’t suffer. Rook stepped in front of him to prevent him from going any further.

“No no, you’re not leaving the bed today my heart” Rook told him as she gently pushed him back onto the bed.

Her light touch was enough to make him lose his balance and fall back onto the covers. Rook knelt on the bed and proceeded to unbutton Emmrich’s pajama shirt, aiming to rid him of the damp fabric and help him change into clean ones.

“Oh my, so bold in dragging me back to bed” Emmrich exhaled as he watched her nimble fingers undress him, mesmerized. “Darling as much as I appreciate your enthusiasm, I think I have somewhere to be.. “ He visibly racked his brain for the exact detail “I have many things to do… though I’m not sure what exactly”

“Emmrich, you are visibly sick and need to rest” Rook seriously told him. She was starting to feel like he would be a bad patient.

“Nonsense. I haven’t been sick in years. I exercise, mind my hygiene, and take tonics during the colder months to prevent disease”

While Emmrich blathered, he let Rook get him out of his pajamas and into new ones. Once she was done, she pressed him into the mattress with a hand splayed on his chest, placing one free finger to his lips to stop his rambling about prevention of infections and means of desinfection.

“Close your eyes and sleep my love” She gently ordered him, and when she moved her hand over his burning forehead, he complied with a tired sigh. “I’ll call for a healer and you will be back on your feet in no time”

- - -

The healer stopped by in the afternoon. He diagnosed Rossalia, a fever usually contracted by young children, that immunized them for the rest of their lives if they survived. The disease was often benine in children, but more severe in adults who never came in contact with it before. Given he was taken in by the Watch quite young, and lived most of his childhood in the aseptic environment of the Necropolis, without many contacts with children, Emmrich had probably encountered the disease only recently. It found him weakened by overexertion (from Manfred’s extra curriculars, to the three thesis he had accepted to supervise, and the approaching deadline for a publication of his recent researches), and now it was taking a toll on his body.

The fever was high, but the healer was not worried, it was a natural mean of defense agaisnt the infection. He gave Rook embrium to ease the breathing, and a potion of garlic and spindleweed to lower the body’s temperature; both to take thrice a day and into the night if needed. Emmrich was barely conscious during that exchange, too tired to move or talk. The fever was supposed to alleviate overnight, and the healer asked Rook called for them again if Emmrich didn’t get better in the two following days.

Rook diligently applied the prescription, part of her wishing she had studied healing magic. Nevarran medicine had similarities to that of the dalish, but wasn’t exactly identical, and she wished she could ask a dalish keeper for advice. But she couldn’t; she was far from home, had been for a long time. Yet her roots still called to her in times of doubt.

In the evening, Manfred came back from the Necropolis and immediately asked about Emmrich’s condition. In the morning Rook had convinced the spirit to leave without Emmrich so he wouldn’t miss any lessons. She thought that was what Emmrich would have wished, but she now realized that Manfred had been preoccupied all day.

“Sick?” He asked, not quite grasping the meaning of it while Rook prepared some tea mixed with embrium. Emmrich hadn’t been this sick since she knew him, and probably since he took Manfred as his assistant, which explained the skeleton’s suprise. It was one thing to learn about the theoretical aspect of illness, but it was another to be confronted with a sick loved one.

“Yes. It’s an infection. There’s something attacking his body but he’s fighting it off with fever” Rook explained as best she could. But she didn’t have Emmrich’s patience and knack for teaching.

“Like blight?” Manfred asked and before Rook could reply, he added. “I learned sick people die”

Rook froze, then turned to the skeleton.

“No Manfred, he’s not going to die. It’s just Rossallia. I caught it as a child and I’m still here! The healer said he would be fine” She tried to reassure him, coming closer and placing a hand on his scapula.

“Good” Manfred perked up. “Don’t want him die”

“Me neither” Rook said, a strained chuckle escaping her. It seemed Emmrich’s fears were contagious, and bled on them as the years passed.

Rook went back to the tea when Manfred called her name.

“Rook?”

“Yes Manfred” She distractedly replied.

“What do I do when Emmrich die?”

The cup she was holding escaped Rook’s grip and crashed onto the floor, the porcelain breaking in a million pieces. She barely heard Manfred announcing “I’ll clean” because of the ringing of her blood beating in her ears.

While Manfred used the broom to dispose of the debris on the floor, she took a few shaky breaths. Deep. Slow. Like he told her she should when distressed. Emmrich. Her sweet and patient Emmrich. Her older, mortal Emmrich.

“Rook?” Manfred came to stand next to her when he was done. “What about tea?” He asked, unphazed, like he didn’t just ask a simple and innocent question that sent her spiralling into a near panic attack.

“Yes, yes I’m on it” Rook told him, gulping back the dread struck in her gut and around her heart.

“I help!” Manfred offered, pouring the tea from the teapot into another cup and placing it all on a tray.

Together they climbed the stairs to the bedroom and tended to Emmrich without another word.

- - -

That night, lying on the couch to leave the bed for Emmrich, Rook couldn’t sleep. Her lover’s condition hadn’t improved but it hadn’t worsened either. She knew healing took time, but there, alone in the silence of the huge empty living room, an irrationnal fear seized her heart. It was stupid, but uncontrollable. A fear that was unjustified, but that she understood came from the conversation she left unfinished with Manfred. It was less a worry for the days to come than an anguish for much later; for gloomy occurrence that she couldn’t forsee and yet was inevitable.

In the darkest hours of the night, Rook found herself fearing for Emmrich’s death more than she ever did. More than when the world was ending. More than when they directly risked their lives facing dragons and gods.

She remembered Emmrich had described it well, that fear, back in the Necropolis’ gardens. Back then she had been smitten with his humanity, touched by his words but too distracted, too young and bright to truly grasp their meaning. She hadn’t tasted the peace of their domestic intimacy yet; the true bliss of living by the side of a kindred spirit.

This fear that couldn’t be reasonned with, or soothed over, plagued her rest; raw and strangling, nested somewhere deep past her heart.

She did her best to control it, but spent the night in its company, like Emmrich probably did many times before her.

- - -

The following day brought no progress towards Emmrich’s recovery. In the early sunrise, Rook found her lover drenched in sweat again, tossing and turning in an agitated fever dream.

He hadn’t spoken to her since she put him to sleep the previous morning, and she was already missing it.

With Manfred’s help she changed his clothes and helped the medicine down his throat. Rook stayed by the bed a few hours, hoping the treatment would lower the fever, but by noon Emmrich was still burning up and started coughing too. Rook kept encouraging him as she caressed his hand between hers, telling him how strong he was, and how he would get better soon. After a particularly dire coughing fit, she pondered calling for the healer again. But she decided against it, reasoning with herself, grasping onto her limited scientific knowledge. Emmrich was is no immediate danger; she had seen people on the verge of dying, and he was not in that state.

Rook was carefully wiping Emmrich’s sweaty forehead when Manfred entered with afternoon tea and biscuits. She realized then that she had missed lunch. She wasn’t feeling hungry anyways.

She thanked Manfred for the tea but left it untouched. When another coughing fit seized Emmrich, wheezy and painful to hear, Rook stood up and rummaged through the drawers of her dresser until she retrieved a small cream jar.

Manfred curiously looked as she opened it and proceeded to spread its content on Emmrich’s bare chest. The strong mint and camphor scent reminded her of her childhood, when her mother would sing her hushered lullabies to get her to sleep despite her sore throat and muscles.

“What this?” Manfred asked.

“A poultice. A recipe from my clan. It helps breathe better” She explained, focusing on the task at hand. She felt less powerless as she applied the treatment, and hoped the medicine from her people would help him like it once helped her.

Emmrich’s coughing visibly receeded, but he was still agitated, his sleep non-restorative.

“I help too” Manfred said, and Rook soon felt flickers of magic prickling her skin.

Light emanated from the spirit’s hands, and he slowly moved them over Emmrich’s face, careful and focused. Rook recognized a basic healing spell. She often forgot that necromancers of the Watch were almost as apt at healing as they were at handling corpses.

Emmrich’s contorted features relaxed under Manfred’s spell, and he fell back into a peaceful slumber in a deep relieved sigh.

“Well done Manfred. Thank you” Rook praised him with a genuine and pure tenderness, coming from the bottom of her heart.

“Don’t like sick” The skeleton declared and Rook sighed in exhaustion.

“Me neither…” She told him, her shoulders hunched under the weight of her worries and the lack of sleep.

She turned to look at the spirit that she sometimes liked to playfully call their son, just to make Emmrich flustered. She liked to jest about it, but she truly felt an indiscriptible affection for this curious being. She couldn’t rival the bond Manfred shared with Emmrich, but she loved the skeleton none the less. With all her heart.

“Manfred, about what you asked me yesterday” She started, hands tightly clasped together. “I think it is best you discuss it with Emmrich directly. When he’s better of course, don’t go dropping this on him too soon, or you’ll truly end him” Her jest had always been a protection, but right then it felt weak and wobbly. Rook’s vision blurred. She couldn’t look Manfred in the eyes as she whispered “But for what it’s worth, I’ll be there for you if you want me. For as long as I can”

Two bony arms drapped around her. It felt weird to be hugged by a skeleton she thought; but in that moment, it was all the comfort she needed.

- - -

In Rook’s dreams, she was with Emmrich. Always. She was faithful to him, and drawn to him even in her nightly escapes. He was calling her name, gentle and sweet; sleepy, like they had just awakened together on the lazy morning of a blissfully unbusy day.

“Darling” He said as he pat the top of her hair, scratching the way she liked it. She never wanted him to stop.

He hissed in delight then.

Wait. Emmrich did not hiss.

Rook opened her eyes and found herself kneeling by the bed, her cheek resting on her folded arms, drool on the corner of her mouth.

“Darling you’re awake. Good morning”

Upon hearing his voice, she straightened up at lightning speed and surveyed her surroundings.

Emmrich sat on the bed, dishevelled and still coughing, but his complexion looking far better than the day before. Beside him, Manfred was placing a tray full of breakfast material: tea and bread, butter and fruits.

“Emmrich” Rook could only sigh his name in longing, so happy to see him better that it brought her to tears. Her worry had been such that her relief was crushing.

“Dearest, are you alright?” Emmrich asked, tone laced with worry, but Rook shook her head and smiled.

“I am now that you are” She replied, and climbed onto the bed to nestle by his side.

Emmrich took her in his arms and kissed her forehead. “Thank you for watching me dearest”

She pressed closer against him and he chuckled, the sound turning into a small coughing fit. The Rossallia access was receiding but not over yet and he musn’t overdo it.

“Are you sure you want to cling to me like that, I’m all sweaty, it is positively appaling” Emmrich sighed but Rook didn’t move an inch.

From the corner of her eye, she noticed Manfred leaning towards the bed, knees bent, brushing the bedding but not quite climbing on it; hesitant.

“I’ll help you clean up soon, but for now, you must indulge us” She told her lover, and then motionned for Manfred to come closer. “Come on Manfred. Time for cuddles!”

A thrilling wistle escaped the skeleton before he pounced on the bed and hugged Emmrich from the other side, where despite an outraged sigh, he was welcomed with opened arms.

The fear was gone for now. It would return, and it would be fine. The happy moments easily outweighted those of doubt. And in the end, what was fear of a loved one’ death if not only a side effect of a love too deep, too strong for such an imperfect creature as a mortal being.

#emmrich volkarin #emmrich x rook #emmrook #rook x emmrich #veilguard fanfic #dragon age fanfiction #dragon age veilguard #da veilguard #dragon age : the veilguard #emmrich the necromancer #emmrich romance #emmrich dragon age #manfred the skeleton #manfred dragon age #da manfred #rook dragon age

113 notes · View notes

hazelfoureyes · 8 months ago

Note

Could you write a short story about a trans FTM Y/N coming out to alastor?

If not I don't mind!

I'm just starting to come out to some people and want to feel validated by alastor lolll

Mon Cher

You had to start somewhere. But the issue with these kinds of conversations is there’s never a natural point in talking to bring it up…. And sitting people down can be so stressful for everyone.

But you had an opportunity.

Alastor was known for his pet names, often throwing out a dear or sweetheart.

So when he leaned against your side and asked, “Pass me that, will you ma chère?” You froze. Finally. The frustratingly gendered nature of languages was coming to your aid.

“Alastor, I’m not comfortable with being called ma chère. Can you call me mon cher?”

His face stilled, a moment of confusion. “That’s the word for males, dear.”

“Yeah. I know.” A nervous shift in your seat, “Actually, with all things. I prefer he or him and other male coded words. Those are the right words for me.”

Humans have been changing the way they were identified since humans invented ways to identify each other. Not a moment in time has there existed a point where every human language fully represented its people. Nor that every body was reflective of the soul it inherited.

So Alastor didn’t need long to adjust. He knew quite a few dapper lads in his day who had made the same request.

“Of course mon cher. May I have that pen now?”

After you handed it over he let the tip hover over his paper for a second, without looking up, “Did you want to talk anymore about things?”

After thinking for a moment, “Do you think I’ll struggle with telling the others?”

He replied as he began his work, slowly, mostly for show, “Do you want to tell them?”

“Yeah.”

“Well, you won’t have an ounce of trouble. I guarantee it.” He looked up now, typically disheartening smile looking soft and gentle, “I’ll make sure of it, mon chéri*.”

Before the silence went on too long and he knew the topic would be changed he added, “Did you know Rosie makes custom suits? Quite the skilled seamstress. Perhaps we could stop by sometime. If you’d like.”

Not only had he truly meant the offer, you found telling him had brought a different kind of help. Sometimes you didn’t have to tell people at all once someone was there to set the new standard.

A day soon after came when Alastor addressed you appropriately in public, “Well that’s too bad Charlie, I need his help with some studio work.”

And the crew looked at you, and you smiled, and they smiled and the conversation would carry on as normal. The only change being a few words replaced a few others and you got a small pat on the back as Husk left the group to tend bar.

Sometimes the first steps are the hardest but get us the furthest.

Happy pride babies! made this very first steps for many people and I hope it was something you enjoyed. Apologies for the delay, i actually didn’t see this until about four days ago.

*“Mon cher” means “my dear”, said to a male person. “Ma chère” means the same, said to a female. “Mon chéri”, resp. “ma chérie”, means “my darling” or “my dearest”.

🏳️‍🌈Hazbin Masterlist🏳️‍🌈

#Alastor #hazbin hotel #hazbin alastor #hazbin hotel alastor #hazbin hotel x reader #alastor x reader

160 notes · View notes

romana-after-dark · 3 months ago

Text

Our Gentle Sins: Chapter 8

Thank you so so so much to @plasticbabies for making this beautiful header!!!! we finally have a good one!

Dark!Logan Howlett x fem!reader

Series Masterlist : Main Masterlist : Logan Masterlist

Spotify Playlist

Follow @romana-updates and click follow, join my tumblr community or ask to join the tag list to keep up!

Buy Me A Coffee : Kofi : Go Fund Me

Chapter summary: Past. Logan and you dance. Present. Your admit your issues with doctors.

Warnings: This fic features non con, pregnancy, and themes of religous trauma. I will not be saying everything that happens to warm you, by clicking read more you are prepared for extremely dark themes and that you at 18+. You are responsible for your own media consumption.

3.0 words

Before

You were beautiful. No, no, beautiful wasn’t enough. Radiant. Ethereal… Fuck, Logan was struggling to find words as he watched you in your dress, confidently striding around the dance with a spring in your step. You wore a yellow, floral dress that vaguely resembled regency era, everyone around you wearing the best they could get. Charles had put money towards allowing the teens to get nice dress clothes, believing knowing how to dress properly was important, so when you and your literature class planned a school ball, they were prepared. Everyone came, because of course they did. You were the favorite teacher.

Being the favorite teacher meant Logan hadn’t hardly seen you all evening, watching you float like a butterfly around the hall talking to everyone. You had enlisted him and Remy, as well as a few others like Scott or Emma to help chaperone, but you and Remy and him had spent the week setting everything up. Logan never saw himself as the type to hang up streamers, but for you he’d do it all. Sometimes, he’d catch you glancing towards him even while chatting with another, and that made him happy.

You made him happy.

“She’s beautiful, Logan.” Kurt appeared next to him, but Logan didn’t stop watching you. The way you looked tonight, he needed to make sure you didn’t suffer unwanted attention. He’d protect you.

“Yeah, she really is.”

“You make a move yet?”

Logan rolls his eyes. Kurt was nosey. “No, Kurt. You know I can’t.”

A chuckle beside him. “No, I actually don’t. Charles didn’t actually say you couldn’t. I think you just like to wallow in self pity. Remy agrees.”

His head whips towards his friend, tearing his eyes off you for just a minute. “The fuck you talking to the Cajun about me for?”

Kurt remained playful. “Besides you and her, no one wants you together more than Remy does. Now, for fucks sake Logan, go get your girl.”

You were talking to Hank, discussing the struggles of making the most period accurate dance you could with one of the few people here who could understand.

“Can I cut in?”

Logan.

You turn to see him, and god, he was beautiful as ever, but incredible in that dapper suit. He slaps a friendly hand on Hank’s back, and Hank gives him a knowing look, politely excusing himself to go get some food. Logan smiles down at you, holding out his hand. “May I have this dance?”

Heat warms your skin, heart picking up as you try and fail to hold back a smile, taking his hand. “My dance card is very full, but I think I can squeeze you in.”

It was perfect. Logan, being the man 200 something years old, knew how to dance. Remaining chaste, somehow you still managed to feel like he was burning a hole through your clothes when he touched you. His hand on your waste felt indecent, salacious… but his touch on your shoulder was downright lewd. Logan had never seen your shoulders, always covered up even that night, and a few nights after, you came to his room as he tossled in the throws of a nightmare. Not that he had seen the waist he touched so lightly either, but you imagined him slipping off the dress with the hand on you, heat beginning to pool in your stomach.

Logan had never mentioned catching you masturbating, although he’d certainly heard you calling his name as well. The window was nothing to his hearing. He was polite enough to leave it be, and that’s one of the things that made you fall in love with him. He was better than you deserved. Logan was good, Logan was kind and gentle and you didn’t care what other people thought of him. He was better than you.

“You look beautiful, Dolly.” Logan spoke earnestly, thumb caressing over the material on your collar bone, making you wince in pain, his large hand splayed over you.

The compliment made you blush, casting your eyes away. You knew how to take a compliment, even if you weren’t convinced of its truth. “Thank you.”

“Hey.” His hand, smooth and soft from the regenerative cells in his body, cupped your face, coaxing it up to look at him. “I mean it.” When your eyes avoid his, he presses further. “Why don’t you believe me?”

You swallow hard. How to explain it without sounding like a jealous or catty bitch. You didn’t hate other women. You were jealous of many here, yes of course you were. Jean, Emma, Kitty Storm. Of course you were jealous, you weren’t an idiot. But it wasn’t the sort that made you dislike them. All the women here had been wonderful to you, but still, you struggled to connect. You felt out of place in womanhood, often feeling as if you were a perpetual teenage girl on the outskirts, no idea how to be a woman correctly. It wasn’t that you were a virgin, but you hadn’t had any idea what they were talking about with sex. Your husband made you feel dirty for wanting to try anything new.

You didn’t know how to do make-up or how to dress like them, do hair and fuck and kiss and maybe kiss each other? You didn’t know. Did friend kiss all the time like in college movies? What was normal? Getting married at 16 certainly wasn’t. You couldn’t really talk to them about interests because you didn’t really know what interested you. You liked reading, but the books Emma read were…. Well, far from the Jane Austen and Agatha Christie you read. Part of you wanted to read those books… but you was scared.

It was a big world out there, and you didn’t know how to navagate it.

“Dolly, talk to me.”

“I just… sometimes I wonder why you spend so much time with me… there are far prettier women here-”

“Dolly-”

“Who don’t cry when they try on pants, who don’t dress like grandmas, who can drive a car-”

Who can give you children.

“Hey-”

“You should be spending your time chasing someone who can give you what you want. I’m not an idiot, Logan. I know you feel what I feel for you but…” Tears prickled at your eyes. “But I can’t… I can’t be what you need or want, Logan. I can’t.”

For a long moment, you danced in silence, Logan leaving you in a waltz as bodies blurred around you. Scott and Emma, Remy, student couples of yours who you’d suspected were together… all of it surround you, filling the air with lust and love and friendship. In the middle of it, you and Logan, some combination of all three.

“I’m not who you think I am, Logan.”

“What do you know of what I need, baby doll? I don’t need what others have. I need what you have. I need you. You. You are my dolly, nothing else matters.”

Your next words blurted out. “I can’t get pregnant.”

Another pause. “I guessed that.”

Your head whips up, finally looking at him in shocked confusion. “What?!”

“Fundamentalists don’t believe in birth control. They don’t even believe in um… natural family planning. You were married several years. So, either you didn’t get pregnant either because of you or him, or you left children behind.”

“I’d never leave children with that monster.” You spat out your words.

“I know. I know you wouldn’t. I figured it was either you or him.”

His trust in your character touched you, but there was something else that stood out. “What do you mean him?” Logan narrowed his eyes, brows pinched together.

“Him? If he didn’t have enough…” He hesitated to find the polite words. “Well, if the issue was on his end.”

Your skin, if it was burning before with Logan’s touch, was on fire in a rage. “You mean the issue could’ve been him?”

You were absolutely livid. All those years, all those years he blamed you, said you were barren, and it could have been him! Your beliefs at the time didn’t allow for medical intervention for women who struggled with infertility (natural only!) so you never went to the doctor for help conceiving. For years you were miserable, wanting a child, wanting nothing more than to be a mother, told all you were worth was your potential motherhood and since you couldn’t live up to it, you were nothing.

And it might not have been because of you.

Logan watched with concern as your eyes filled with tears, burying your head in his nice shirt to hide your crying as you explained it all. Every negative pregnancy test, how badly you wanted it, the nights you spent on your knees until the bruises begin God to be worthy of a child.. How every time one of your siblings or church members announced a pregnancy you rejoiced for them but felt a punch in the gut, how your husband beat you for your failures.

“Did Logan make you cry?”

Scott pulled you out of your thoughts. Not long after you and Logan danced, Scott asked for one and you happily obliged. Scott was very kind. Remy was a good friend, Logan was… whatever was happening with Logan. But Scott checked in on you regularly. See if you needed anything, if you were settling into the school well, if you were having any trouble or concerns with the teens. When you were sick, he checked in late that day much to Logans annoyance.

“What?” You snap to attention. “Oh! No, no… I was just… other stuff, you know.”

You couldn’t see Scotts eyes, so reading his face was harder than with most. Over the years, you’ve gotten good at reading men's body language and facial expressions, the only way to survive in the male dominated world you grew up in. Scott was an enigma.

“Are you sure? Because Judith,” His use of your pseudonym threw you off. “If anyone here is harming you, we won’t protect them. I know the life you had, but you can just us. We won’t choose Logan over you.”

What on earth was he talking about? “Logan wouldn’t hurt me, Mr. Summers.” You insist, eyes searching for Remy, hoping to get out of this conversation.

Scott’s thumb pulled at the top of your dress, moving it aside just a single inch, but you knew what it revealed. You gasp, swiftly covering it up again, hoping no one saw. “What-”

“If he is hurting you, you need to tell me. I promise, I can he-”

A large, hairy hand clamped down on Scotts shoulder, a subdued cry of pain escaping Scotts lips.

Logan spoke, a dark, low voice in Scotts ear. “The only fucking reason I’m not tearing your arm off is because my baby doll spent months planning this dance and it would be rude to spray blood all over her guest. So I suggest you take your hands off her, and we handle this outside like men.”

“LOGAN STOP!” You scream, crying against the wall as you watched Scott and Logan fight in the parking lot. Well, fight wasn’t the right word. Scott could probably have killed Logan if he was really trying, but he wasn’t. Scott was far more rational than Logan was, especially now.

The two men battled it out, leaving you all but forgotten as you sob on the floor.

Then, an explosion. It wasn’t big, nothing and no one was damaged, but enough to make Scott and Logan stumble back and pause, chests heaving in their torn and dirty formalwear.

“For fucks sake!” Remy appeared from the purple cloud, gesturing towards you. “I leave for 5 minutes and I come back to find my friends fighting like teenage boys! And I do say boys, cher, because a man,” He reached a hand to you, helping you up. “Wouldn’t leave a lady crying on the floor!”

“Take her inside.” Scott instructs. “I’ll handle this.”

Logan’s ‘fuck off’ went unnoticed.

“And what, exactly, are you handling?”

“I dunno, Remy, maybe something to do with the claw marks on her!”

All eyes turned to you, including Remy. “Pistache,” His voice was gentle. Did something happen?”

You melt under the pressure, slinking away behind where Remy stood. “I can explain, Mr. Summers.”

And just like that, eyes were back on Scott. “Are really out here trying to kill our brother in arms before you even ask the girl what happened?”

Scott looked embarrassed. “She won’t say anything about him! She’s clearly scared! Besides, I wasn’t trying kill him…”

“Ah, just maim him then.”

“Dolly.” Logans voice called to you. He looked so worried, so sad, his eyes wide and desperate. “Did I… hurt you?”

You nod. “But Logan… It was the nightmare.” You turn to Scott, a hint of indignation you couldn’t help for him accusation to Logan, but a softness because someone, someone cared enough to notice. “He was having a nightmare. He scratched me in his sleep when I tried to wake him.”

Once again unreadable, Scotts voice was careful. “You don’t have to defend him. You can-”

“Respectfully, Mr. Summers,” You said, letting go of Remy in favor of approaching Logan and taking his hand. “I’ve survived abuse once. I told people then, they didn’t believe me but I told them. I would do it again if Logan did that. But from Logan’s point of view, you were pulling at my clothing. So I think its best both of you sweep this under the rug as a misunderstanding.” You walk away, taking Logan with you. “Logan and I are about to miss the last dance.”

After

“You’re missing the dance.”

“Can’t wear anything that won’t show them I’m pregnant.”

It was prom, and you had organized another dance for it. Months of work, and you couldn’t even see your students dresses. Everything nice enough to chaperone would be too tight, thanks to the slight bump. You didn’t know Logan would be back so soon, but him and Kurt returned this evening. Under the blankets, you feigned sickness to Remy, asking him to attend the ball in your stead, show your students the love you wanted to give.

Your first year here was almost done, and you were sure once the pregnancy came out you’d be fired. You couldn’t expect Charles to put the baby through daycare.

The room was dark, but the glow of the TV illuminated Logan as he sat on the chair with a heavy sigh.

“How's the girl?” You ask.

“She’s gonna need a lot of rest and food and she’s on an IV but… she’ll make it. Seems happy to be here. Kurt and her got along well.”

“Good.” The Tv drowned out the quiet, Bobs Burgers again. “You know, I don’t understand half of this show sometimes. Pop Culture references I don’t get. Like, who is queen Laytifa? Who is Bruce Springsteen? I don’t know.”\

A beat. “If it makes you feel better, I don’t get a lot of the jokes either.”

You give a small chuckle. “It kinda does. At least I have an excuse.”

Logan gives you a moment before asking. “How are you been since i left.”

You try to think of an honest answer. “Morning sickness is terrible. Nightmares are worse than ever, but Remy’s helped me. I’m too fat for some of my clothes already. Not going great, honestly.”

“Dolly,” He huffs, “We need to get you into a-”

“A doctor. I know. School’s out in two weeks.” You take a deep breath and release it slowly. “I’m teaching a few summer classes and the literature club is meeting through the summer but… I’m free at noon every day. We can go, I guess.”

Logan’s heart leap, relieved to finally get you and his baby medical care once again. He knew this was difficult for you, you never went to doctors for anything this whole school year.

“Is it a naturopathic thing? Like you guys didn’t believe in science.”

You groan, covering your face with a blanket. “Why do you think we’re friends, Logan? I’m not talking to you about my life like this!”

Frustrated and tired, he tugged the blanket back down. “”I just wanna take care of you, dolly!”

“After you raped me!” Your words hung in the air, bitter on your tongue, but more spilled out. “I- I was pregnant once. I think. It was too early to test but I just… knew. And then he beat me. It was… it was so bad, Logan. I’ve never known pain like that. And then I started bleeding. I tried to tell a doctor I was being abused…” You willed yourself not to cry this time. “But he told me…”

You think back to that night, your eyes pinched shut as you recounted it to Logan. Everything hurt. You wanted a female doctor but your husband insisted on seeing a family friend. When you were alone you tried to say no, you didn’t fall that he did this too you. You tried to say that you made you miscarry!

‘Do you know what the laws are for abortion here, ma’am?’

His question stunned you.

‘Uh… illegal?’

You didn’t really know.

‘Legal in some circumstances, unfortunately. But illegal outside of medical performance, and we don’t know how far along you are.’

‘I’m only-’

‘Whose to say. My point is, how are we to know you didn’t try to skirt around the law and end your own pregnancy?’

You couldn’t take the TV anymore. Too loud, too bright. You turn it off, getting up to open the window for fresh air. Through the crack, music from the prom spilled in, Glitter in the Air.

Logan’s arms wrapped around your waist, burying his hair in your face and you wanted to pull away. You wanted to scream. But you also wanted Logan to just be your Logan again. Maybe he was? You had missed him, even now after everything you missed him. You wanted to be with him.

“Dance with me, Dolly. Even if it’s our last.”

So you danced with him. And it was not the last.

But Charles returned for graduation, and you needed to make a choice what to do.

WOW THANK YOU SOSOSOSOSOOSOSOSOSO much!!!!!

comments mean the ENTIRE world and the in depth thought you've all given are so wonderful!!!!!!

I really really am so delighted with the love here, and all the new followers and friends!!!

Thank you so so much everyone. I love you all!!

My tags have not been tagging??????? s be careful and make sure youre caught up!!! also if you wanna join my discord to keep up, let me know! it is a fully leftist group, pro queer, anti-zionism, leftist etc etc

@multiversed-daydreamer @my-secret-shame-but-fanfiction @del-ightfulling @miraclesabound @hindi-si-ikay @samsamsantos @madamerubrum @shybluebirdninja a @hornystan @rogueinmymind @accountforreading123 @yawnetu @princessanglophile @and-claudia @new-genesis1000 @teaganthemorningstar @oldloganslittleslut @zaggprincess2 @bugsinmyeyez @groundclueless @cosmolight

80 notes · View notes

jazziejax · 9 months ago

Text

PR & Matchmaking

Pairing- Callum Turner x OC! India Hayes

Summary- The flirtatious banter between two co-stars that are trying to make the most of their PR contract while also wondering if what they’re felling is real or not.

Warnings- none

Author’s Note- I haven’t written anything on here in so long so please be easy one me guys. I just wanted to post something because it’s been a while and I felt like Callum Turner needed more love.

Word Count- 2,131

Lights were flashing like crazy and the people were going wild as they walked onto the carpet. Tonight was the premiere of Masters of The Air, a drama miniseries on Apple TV that explores the aerial wars of WWII through enlisted men of the Mighty Eighth Air Force.

At first, the red carpet was filled with the men from the show, some posing for the perfect shot while others did interviews to talk about the show. Though all were dapper as the cameras clicked and flashed to capture their noticeable charm. One of the stars, Callum Turner, was in the middle of answering a question after being asked what was his biggest takeaway from a show like this.

“I mean, it’s taught me a lot. More than I knew it would, which is always great. Working with such amazing people has to be the greatest takeaway—.” The sound of his words were barely audible under the screams of the crowd. His face morphed into a shell of shock for only the briefest moment before he chuckled and turned his head to see what that commotion was about. His first assumption was that it was Austin and Barry offering tons of fanservice with their flirtatious banter.

But he couldn’t have been more wrong.

He could hardly see through the flashing lights but he could discern one name through what the photographers were saying.

“India!”

“India, this way!”

Even though he wasn’t facing the camera fully, it still caught the smile that graced his lips at the sound of the woman's name. From another angle, you could see him looking down the carpet at the girl in black, staring at her figure as she posed.

Realizing he’s still on camera and was in the middle of talking, Callum chuckled as she turned back to his interviewer. “Speaking of amazing—.” He laughed along with the guy, gesturing to the woman down the carpet.

“Did you guys and the Angels of War cast get to do any work together? Can we expect to see a crossover?” The man asked before holding his mic out to Callum. Said man pursed his lips, a mischievous glint in his eyes. “I can’t say, you have to watch the show and see.” He joked.

Moments later, India was being asked her own set of questions.

“We’ve all seen Angels of War, we all loved it. It was great. But I must know what you think of Masters of the Air.” The woman asked her.

India smiled, prepared for her words to soon come bite her in the ass. “I loved it, it was so amazing and so detailed that you couldn’t help but fall in love it.” India smiled, her southern accent strong on her tongue. “I felt so connected to the characters because of such great acting.” She offered a soft smile. “But it was hard payin’ attention in some scenes because everyone was so sexy.” She laughed along with interviewer.

“Right! I’m glad you said it before I did.” The woman with the mic spoke.

“Yeah, but I’m gonna watch anything with Callum Turner in it.” India winked with a small smirk on her lips. This caused the interviewer to make a sound of excitement, knowing she just got her clip of the week. India just smiled and laughed along, knowing she was working her PR arm a little too much. But she liked riling people up, it’s why she was so loved.

“I have to agree with you, I am the same way with Henry Cavil.” The woman chuckled. Her eyes moved a tad to catch a glimpse of a tall figure dressed in black behind India’s shoulder. “And speaking of Callum Turner.” She beamed.

India turned her torso to see said man not too far from them walking somewhere along the outskirts of the red carpet, a few people straggling behind him. Seeing movement out of the corner of his eye, Callum glanced to his left to see India and the interviewer staring at him, the camera slightly angled his way. A large smile made its way onto his face as he walked closer.

“Callum!” India said excitedly, opening her arms in invitation. His eyes disappeared behind the folds on his cheeks as he moved to embrace the woman once he made it to her. She wrapped her arms his neck while his went to her waist. Her height and hills made it to where her head fit almost perfectly within the nook of his neck. As she moved back slightly to grab a hold of his jaw and place a firm kiss on his cheek, his hands traveled from her waist to her hips. His large hands almost sitting on top of her bottom. Since they weren’t as close to the mic as they were before, the camera couldn’t pick up on any of what was being said.

“Did you play it up before I got here?” India asked through a smile as she drug her hand from his face to his chest.

“Why yes I did, darling.” He beamed down at the girl. “And I can see you are trying to upstage me.” He said before starting to rub his hands up and down the curve of her back. The tips of his middle fingers grazing one another as they traversed the span of her waist. India then made a dramatic sad face, her large eyes never leaving his. “Oh, never that.” She cooed. “I am just trying to get us both paid.” She cheesed before turning around to finish her interview. Callum followed after her, keeping his hand around her waist.

“Sorry about that. Speak of the devil and he shall appear and all that.” India said sarcastically, nodding her head over to the man behind her. The interviewer laughed, looking between the two. “It’s so good to now have you here with us, Callum, how are you?” She asked.

“I’m doing far better now that I’ve seen her.” The man smirked, glancing down at the woman on his arm as his hand moved from her hip to lying flat on her stomach. . India dramatically rolled her eyes at him, moving to place her hand on top of his. “He’s so cheesy.” She said.

“Only for the right price.” His voice said above her head. India burst into a fit of chuckles, angling her head to look up at the man without turning around. They shared a knowing look before going back to looking at the interviewer, who was red in the face from just watching their interactions.

“Well aren’t you two quite the pair!” She exclaimed. “Are we going to be seeing your characters together any time soon? I think it’s time for Loretta to settle down.” She asked before holding out the mic.

“Well, first off, Loretta needs no man!” India said, sassily waving her finger, causing the others to chuckle. “She probably would have liked one in a time such as then but needed one? No thank you.” She joked, although her words had a seemingly undertone due to the topic of her statement. “And secondly, you’ll just have to wait and see. I wouldn’t get my hopes up though.” She shrugged.

“Well, those are all the question I had for you, thank you two so much for being here!” She said excitedly.

“No, thank you for having us.” India said before giving the woman a small hug, Callum’s hand moving to her waist as she moved. She then finished her hug and walked away with Callum on her hip.

“Do you think we’re laying it on thick?” India asked, looking up at him. Callum looked down at her, the lights reflecting of her big eyes. She had a black silk scarf on her head on the carpet, but it was no gone, along with her shades, to show her short cut. He brought his hand up to the back of her neck, playing with the small hairs there. “No, I don’t think so.” He said, his suave demeanor dropping in a second of comfortability with her. “And if so, isn’t that kind of the point?” India didn’t answer his rhetorical question, caught up in the feeling of his hands playing in her short hair.

“We have the same haircut.” She said after a moment of silence, the two just staring at each other. Callum’s blue eyes twinkled in the light as he smiled at her. “Yeah, we do.”

“Although I think mines a little better, maybe I can give you my barbers number?” He finished before walking away from her. India’s mouth dropped but wasn’t for long as she caught up to his long legs and hit him in the arms. “I cannot believe you said that. You know I look way better than you with his haircut.” She sassed, rolling her eyes at the man before walking faster than him. Callum smiled his eyes following her figure as she walked back to the red carpet, where her life long friend, Janelle, was gesturing her over on the carpet with the rest of the Angels of War cast.

India scurried over, her and Janelle standing in the middle with the other girls on the side, all posing for the camera. Callum stood off on the side, looking at them while the lights flashed behind him. His eyes were trained on India as she and Janelle exchanged words before bubbling into laughter.

After a while longer, India looked over and made eye contact with him. They both immediately smiled at each other, eyes showing nothing but pure affection. She then detached one of her arms from Janelle and beckoned him over. Callum slightly shook his head. Seeing his hesitation, her face became serious as she beckoned him over again, although her movements were a little harsher this time. He was about to reject the offer again before his shoulder jerked forward slightly. His glanced back to his Austin gesture his head over to the carpet before walking off and over to his girlfriend Janelle, although no one else knew that piece of information.

He followed after him, his eyes locked on India playfully stern ones, the rest Masters of the Air cast following behind him and Austin. Once he made it to her, her eyes softened as he slipped behind her. While they waited for everyone to settle into their places, she smiled up at him before leaning back a little, her back met his torso. Her head laid on his chest as she looked up at him with a big fake smile. Callum looked down at her, staring into the eyes he thought looked beautiful from any angle. Trapped within her gaze, he leaned down a little, the tip of his large nose brushing against her forehead as he sniffed her. India crunched her eyebrows at him before raising her head to look back at the cameras. She still had her back against him, although you couldn’t tell unless you got a side angle.

“Enough of your flirting.” Austin piped up behind his smile as he glanced over at the pair dressed in all black.

“What, are we outshining the real couple?” Callum asked, smirking over at his friend.

“Outshine?” Austin asked. “Oh, you don’t even wanna know the things I’d do if we were public.” He finished, his grip tightening on Janelle’s waist as he continued to pose for the pictures. Said woman’s face flushed as she laughed and glanced up at him. They looked at each other for the briefest of seconds before going back to their original poses.

“This whole thing is so backwards.” India scoffed with a smirk on her face as the camera flicked to catch the moment between Austin and Janelle. Callum looked down at her and placed his hand on her hip, squeezing her fat as he sensed she was getting irritated. “Oh, but you love it.” He said joked, his deep voice vibrating through the both of them. Although she didn’t look up at him, India smiled at his words. “Yeah…you got me there.” She said, but couldn’t decide whether she was serious or not.

Social media went into a complete frenzy over those two. Clips of their cute moments floating all around the internet, some “fake”, you could say and others more authentic. Stills of Callum staring at India so lovingly were all over her feed, almost sending their girl into a spiral from seeing her own face that much. Compilations of every time they interacted during the premiere had millions of views as everyone speculated what they were. People were talking about the pair for weeks, which is just what their management wanted.

Indiahayes ✓⃝

likes by austinbutler, keoghan92, and 567,842 others

indiahayes happy masters of the air day!! go watch the show full of sexy men that kiss! ;)

view 7,627 comments

janellethat no one kissed guys :(

⤷ Indiahayes hush, don’t spoil the show!

callumsnumber1gurl let’s talk about these premiere photos hun!

callumturnerburner you and Callum look soo good together!!

⤷ austinbutlerbutt you are not sneaky at all

austinbutler Angels of War sister! 🤍

⤷ Indiahayes Masters of the Air brother!🖤

anthonyboyle why are you and Nina on the furniture?

⤷ ninasimone because we’re American 🇺🇸 🦅

randosuper3 it’s times like this where I wish Callum had an instagram 😔

lovelyrando you and Callum looked amazing together and I hope what you guys have lasts long

auatinslove are we just not going to talk about Janelle and Austin? What’s going on there???

⤷ indiassuperfan7 adults being adults

#callum turner x reader #callum turner fanfiction #callum turner #callum turner x black reader #austin butler x reader #austin butler x you #austin butler x black reader #social media au #x black reader #x black fem reader #jazziejaxwriting

154 notes · View notes

lionheartedmusings · 1 year ago

Text

i've seen a lot of people talk about pomme being mischaracterised by the fandom, especially when it comes to her design (this one particularly was on the subreddit) and how she's usually depicted as this sweet little girl, which doesn't match up with her warrior side.

i actually… hate this take? now, i totally get that pomme does get mischaracterised by people who aren't usually privy to her for long periods of time, but why is her femininity out of character? how is portraying her as girly and sweet and kind somehow in detriment of her personality in any way?

pomme is kind. she's kind to an extreme, she's communicative and loving, and deeply emotionally intelligent. she's by far one of the genuinely kindest eggs, and deeply understanding of other people and their actions. she's sweet, and caring, and careful of the people around her — she feels horrible about killing foolish, and dislikes being teased about it because it was an accident and she didn't mean it. she'll take other people into account every time, and try her best to have healthy communication at every turn (i.e. her letter to tallulah yesterday).

she's also a warrior, one with the best pvp and pve skills of the eggs, well trained and deadly if need be. i don't think i've ever seen her be downed under any circumstance other than the code, and let me tell you girlie's been in some tough positions where being downed would've been normal. she's loving, but she's not an idiot and she's certainly going to kill instead of being killed.

she's also deeply wounded and paranoid, with her potions and quick switch armor, and reflexes that are frankly only rivalled by bad's. when richas went down, it took bad around 20 seconds to get to him (yes, felps was there but bad didn't know and better safe than sorry) but it wasn't bad who got him up — when pomme realised what was happening, she instantly went to his room. by the time bad arrived, richas was one second from being up. when she needs to tp the eggs, pomme is almost always faster than the parents, because she knows being fast is the difference between a scare and a dead sibling.

she wants elquackity dead. she named her scythe "revenge" because she wants him to pay for what he did to dapper. she's not scared of elquackity for herself, she's pissed the fuck off because no one touches her brother and lives. and this isn't bad's influence on her, mind you, this is pomme being pomme. the only thing that's more important than kindness and survivability is revenge when people harm those she loves — richas canonically had to hold her down in ninho the day dapper was kidnapped, because she wanted to go help the adults.

yes, pomme's the baby, but she's by far one of the most capable eggs in just about any regard. she's traumatised and wounded, but she knows when to put her own emotions aside and focus on the task at hand. she'll dig holes to whine about being called the french assassin, but she wants elquackity's head on a spike. she's gentle and caring and not afraid to talk about her emotions, but she's also cold as ice when need be.

my point being, pomme is a well developed character with a lot of nuance but that doesn't mean portraying her as a sweet little girl is wrong — that's still who she is. there's just layers to her, and i kind of feel iffy on the idea that portraying her in a very feminine way is somehow wrong or betraying who she is. she's the epitome of "don't mistake my kindness for weakness", all in a cute beret and pigtails.

#qsmp #qsmp pomme #when did pomme become my favourite egg? i have no clue actually #dapper and her are tied for first but she's rising fast on the leaderboards #something something femininity as a strength and not a weakness #something something the gentlest people can be your end if you push them

467 notes · View notes

toxictigertonic · 3 months ago

Note

ive tried to request and then immediately talked myself out of it 3 times now bc i get so nervous about asking off anon 😭 uhh can i get the prime assets dressing up :3c or like their clothing habits/preferences

Dressing them up like barbie dolls. I should do one of those dress up memes for them and draw them in stupid outfits. I'm putting Coyle in a skirt.

COYLE

- This man would wear leather 90% of the time, including leather pants. He takes wonderful care of his leather as well, makes sure to condition it as often as needed to keep it beautiful. If you see him sniffing his leather jacket, ignore it.

- It does not matter that he's sweating to death in said leather, he's not taking it off. He can't let you see his shirt with puppies on it underneath /j

- Prefers his clothing rather tight, super loose fitting clothing feels like it gets in the way. He likes the feeling of the wires wrapped around him for that reason.

- Would commit denim on denim crimes. Denim jeans, denim jacket, denim boots (referred to as doots by futterman). He does this to piss people off.

- Despises too much color in an outfit. Bright and colorful disgusts him, he's wearing neutrals and only neutrals.

- Would let a reagent decorate his beard with bows if he was promised pistachios. This is only if the pistachios are in his hands while they decorate.

- You'd think he'd wear heeled boots to make himself seem taller, but you'd be wrong! He's got the insoles that make him taller instead :)

- I think you could convince him to wear a rodeo cowboy outfit. Tassels and all that. You'd tell him he looks cool and he'd believe you.

- Cargo short dad vibes. Each pocket is full of cigarettes and/or pistachios. He doesn't care about the fashion he likes the utility. Takes him a good 5 minutes to get anything out of a pocket though.

- Wore fingerless gloves when he was younger bc he thought they made him look cooler. He'd try them on again and Franco would bully him relentlessly for trying to act younger than he is. He's crying in his room afterward.

MOTHER GOOSEBERRY

- She'd be the English teacher with a collection of fun skirts. Cute patterns, silly patterns, gaudy patterns, you name it, she's wearing it. Futterman says she looks like a rainbow threw up on her.

- She'd also love bold earring choices. Big earrings that make you double-take to make sure you saw them right, earrings that light up, anything with frills. She's a lover of the bold, partially because the children love her crazy styles.

- She'd play around with different lipstick colors if she had access to them. A nice purple lip would make her happy. If Futterman didn't call her a whore for wearing it.

- Futterman would also call her a whore if she tried to wear a shorter skirt, but she'd still tried to get away with it. Not super short, mind you, she's got an image to keep up for the children, but maybe something a little below the knees?

- If a reagent offered to do her hair, like put little accessories in it and detangle it, she'd cry. She wants to feel feminine and she wants to feel pretty, and a pretty bow might help her with that.

- She'd love to wear a petticoat under her skirts, the extra poof would make her feel fun. That's if Futterman didn't find a way to make a fat joke about it.

- Futterman himself would have a collection of very dapper bow ties. Polka-dots and stripes and maybe even little stars, and a variety of colors. He feels fancy when she changes them out for him.

- He'd hate it, but I think Phyllis would have a variety of little hats for him. I wanna see him in one of those little propeller hats. Spin it and she takes off of the ground.

- If it were modern times I could absolutely see her wearing a giant t-shirt with something like a kitten or a puppy on it. Maybe even tie-dye. She'd be a big t-shirt enjoyer is the main idea here.

- Would LOVE chunky heels or maybe even platforms if she was feeling adventurous, but I have this bad feeling she already got shit for being a tall woman. Let her be an even taller queen.

FRANCO

- I love the concept that he wears his clothes too big to feel smaller. While I'm not sure if Murkoff gave him his outfit that he wears in game, I don't think he's too upset about it being oversized.

- I also think that he likes wearing his suits bc they make him feel a little less ugly. He knows the suit is dirty and stained with a bunch of different shit, but a suit is a suit, and suits make you handsome, right?

- He's very particular about his bow ties, he only likes a select few patterns and colors. They still have to match with his suits, though. Can't have himself looking like a fool who doesn't know how to dress!

- Would attempt to steal one of Futterman's bow ties bc he likes it and thinks it'd look better on him. Would almost get fucking annihilated as a result.

- We know his hygiene isn't great from the comics, but I think he's at least slightly ashamed about just how filthy his outfit is. I think he's just kinda accepted that it's not going to be cleaned/he has no way to clean it.

- If you put him in a brand new zoot suit and stuck him in front of a mirror, he'd try to act cocky and like he knew he was handsome as hell. But you'd absolutely be able to tell by how he's smiling and how his eyes are watery that he hasn't felt this attractive in awhile.

- A personalized pacifier WOULD be considered a part of an outfit. If his paci matched his outfit he'd feel so damn cool. And if it had his name on it and looked nice? He'd feel like a prince.

- He's gotta wear his dress shoes, they're a mandatory part of his look, but he wishes they had a little more heel to them. He's joining Coyle in the insoles that make him taller. My short king.

- Outside of the suits, he'd love a soft, heavy sweater. Something that really makes him feel like he's being cuddled. The color wouldn't really matter to him, as long as it offered him some comfort.

- I'm a firm believer in him wearing diamond earrings. I know it doesn't fit as much with the baby part of him, but the mobster in him loves showing off his wealth. He'd fiddle with them a lot, though.

I accidentally assigned Gooseberry's style as "lesbian art teacher" and I won't be taking it back ❤️

#leland coyle #mother gooseberry #dr futterman #phyllis futterman #franco barbi #il bambino #outlast trials #outlast #outlast asks #outlast trials asks #franco and phyllis i always feel sad for #i just write coyle as the menace i view him as

70 notes · View notes

rhiaarrow · 11 months ago

Text

My favorite headcanon about the eggs will always be that they took on the attributes of their parents

But thinking about what each egg took from each parent got me thinking, what did the eggs look like when they first arrived then?

Today's 7am ramble is about how I imagine the og 4 eggs (Chay, Dapper, Leo, Ramón) appearance changed over time and what attributes they took from their parents! :D

Were the first 8 practically identical at first?

In my opinion, yes!

The first few weeks of the egg event everyone kept mixing up the eggs names and forgetting which egg belonged to which parent which of course was just because they were new and no one had memorized it yet.

But why not add a canonical reason for people mix ups?

Everyone was just identifying them by their personal accessories because when the first 8 were delivered they were practically identical.

All small children with tan skin, similar face shapes and the same bright yellowish eyes. The only obvious appearance difference was their hair. All different lengths, styles and shades of brunette.

But they were ALL brunettes to begin with.

(all the dead eggs are commonly depicted as brunettes as well so this adds to it, they died before taking on a lot of their parents attributes)

Now, the first really obvious change that had the Islanders noticing the subtle changes in their own kids was when one day Dapper just suddenly no longer had iris's or pupils.

She just had white sclera blinking back at people and they were clearly his Dad's eyes. Then when they looked closed to see if anything else had changed they realized that both Dapper's skin and hair had darkened a fair few shades when put in comparison with his siblings obviously making to become pure black in both areas like Bad.

But hold on, now that they were comparing hair, they noticed that Chayanne's hair had lightened by quite a few shades. It was now a very light golden brunette, clearly turning blonde like his Dad, and under the skull mask you could no longer see yellow eyes looking back at you. So they removed the mask and sure enough his eyes were the exact opposite of Dapper, just pure Black sclera like his Papa Missa.

And wait, Leo's eyes were purple now! Unlike his siblings she still had her iris's and pupils but the iris's were now a rich purple like his Pa Vegettas and their hair had started to darken too. Closer in color to Dapper's hair, both of them clearly developing black hair like their Dads.

On first inspection Ramón didn't seem to have changed at all. His skin and hair were still the same shades as they had been when he arrived but later that day, when tucking Ramón in for the night, Fit realized that the sleepy eyes looking back at him were the exact same color as the ones he saw in the mirror. The same strange concoction of green and brown that he'd never bothered to find out the name for. And if Fit got choked up over that when he went to his own bedroom for the night, well no one needed to know.

Overtime there were far more obvious changes and also subtle changes that went completely unnoticed.

Chayanne's tail scales shed then instead of growing a new set he grew in a thick plumage, so rather than the lizard-like tail he used to have it he now had tail feathers that matched his father's hidden wings.

Dapper's tail shed the scales entirely until only the base remained, thinning into a long line as the end began to grow and change overtime until she had a forked tail just like her father.

Leo's tail did the opposite, growing in size and the scales became smoother as the end of it began to resemble that of a shark, clearly taking after her Pa Foolich.

Ramón's tail didn't change at all in style, he kept the lizard-like tail they'd all had to begin with, he just adapted to his needs. Fit knew better than anyone that in order to survive it's better to adapt to the hand (pun intended) you're dealt. So he helped Ramón strengthen his tail and work on his motor control until he could hold tools or weapons with the end of his tail, to use the tail as an extension of himself.

In stature, it was pretty obvious that Dapper was starting to take after her Dad when they had their first growth spurt. He shot up a head above his other siblings, still a small child but much taller than the rest. But less noticeably her limbs and body were a lot thinner than the rest, similar to the lean and lanky physique of their demon father.

With the fact that his skin was now pure void black it was easy to miss that her nails had changed into taloned claws and they no longer wore shoes since they'd developed hoof/paw things similar to Bads. Her horns grew to double the size they had been, they grew straight upwards and were sharp at the end just like his fathers.

Chayanne unfortunately did the opposite, having taken up his father's height he stayed practically the same height as his younger triplet siblings all hit their growth spurts. Much like his father, Chayanne was short and sturdy but with the way Dapper was gaining height it didn't matter. Chayanne's own horns stayed the same height they had been but over time they adapted to fit perfectly against the skull mask Chayanne wore.

Ramon and Leo stayed the same height for ages, when one grew so did the other. But then Leo discovered platformed sneakers and since Ramon lived exclusively in steel toed work boots it was easy for Leo to seem taller than her triplet brother, even though they were the exact same height.

In stature Leo stayed the same, no obvious changes at all to her physique but Leo's horns grew slightly and curled backwards over her cap. The most noticeable thing about them though was the fact that the tips of them grew in a vibrant purple, the same color as her eyes.

Ramón did quite obviously take after Fit in his physique but the only one who ever knew that was Fit himself. Ramon wore baggy comfortable clothes all day so no one else knew about the solid muscle mass Ramon had effortlessly gained from repeatedly working with heavy machinery and regularly going to the gym to work out with Fit.

Ramón's own horns however didn't grow at all, in fact they shrunk. With the fact that they were continuously pressed underneath his meathead and goggles they reduced themselves to slightly raised stumps that poked out from under his fringe whenever he took the meathead off. Although he only ever did that when going to sleep, only Fit knew how tiny his horns had become in contrast to how his triplets horns had grown.

I am totally drawing this when I wake up tomorrow, I have thought about this waaaaaaay too much not to at least try to put it on paper.

We will not mention the fact that it's already tomorrow, 8am is a respectable time to fall asleep...yep.

More Miscellaneous Stuff I think the OG eggs picked up;

Leo's skin took on a more golden hue but since she was already tan skinned it was barely noticeable unless she was standing directly in the sun.

Ramón picked up Fit's eyebrows. No particular reason why, he just did. I mean he already had a flawless moustache so why not flawless eyebrows to match?

Chayanne took on Missa's hair texture, making his hair much more volumous than if his hair had been fully taken from Phil.

When Pac officially called Ramón son he took on Pac's pure black pacman shaped eyes which gave Fit a hell of a shock.

Chayanne's ears bent down overtime, he didn't know that they now looked similar to how Piglin hybrid ears did, but Phil did.

Leo developed a strong jawline, not quite as chilzled as her father's but definitely more than her siblings.

#qsmp #qsmp eggs #qsmp chayanne #qsmp ramon #qsmp dapper #qsmp leonarda #qsmp headcanons #ahahaha fuck me it's 7am and im still thinking the hypothetical appearances of Minecraft eggs :/#rhia rambles

170 notes · View notes

qsmprambling · 1 year ago

Text

Thinking about the time Roier struck Bad with lightning and Bad went "Pomme attack!" And in a somewhat surprising move for an egg who is generally very amicable with everyone she did it without a hesitation, and when Roier was confused that she attacked her response was "Don't hurt my family"

And when Elisangela shot Bad and Pomme tried to attack her, which didn't work, she kept looking intensely at this immortal creature while telling her to stop attacking her dad (before she had officially called Bad her dad to his face).

Remember when Dapper was kidnapped and Richas had to hold her back from following Bad and Cellbit to the scene? How she sat with Bad afterwards and mirrored his fury, and they both swore vengence against him? How afterwards Dapper was afraid of ElQuackity, and when he ran away Pomme stood and faced ElQuackity unflinching with her scythe out... Her scythe she named 'Vengence' specifically because of what ElQuackity did?

Remember when Leo and Max intended to try an experiment to make her immortal, but there was a chance it could kill her, so Pomme offered to be the test subject instead because she had two lives? Remember how she was always willing to put herself in danger for her siblings, because of her second life?

Pomme is kind and smart and sweet and caring, but she is also a warrior and protector just like her dad Etoiles... She is so quick to jump to the defense not only of the people she loves, but to anyone at all who may need help.

I love this sweet, strong, passionate little egg ;w;

#just rambling #sometimes i think about Pomme and just #i adore her #pomme

284 notes · View notes

fantasyescapes17 · 2 years ago

Text

Candle (Part 3, Final)

You have always received the best of everything life has to offer: be it education, family, fortune or happiness. Mr. Yoon Jeonghan- one of the ton's renowned villains- cannot possibly bring you happiness of any kind, never mind wedded bliss. But can you evade Jeonghan's charms? Or will you find yourself falling victim to this clever rogue?

Genre: Yoon Jeonghan x female!reader. Regency!AU (It's sort of Bridgerton-esque in the sense that I give zero attention to historical accuracy and prioritize aesthetics lmao) You are Wonwoo's sister so your last name is Jeon, but the reader has no other specific characteristics, physical or otherwise.

Word Count: 4.2k+

Part 1 Part 2

Series Masterlist [I would recommend reading the first story in this series, Patience, before this one but it's not strictly necessary.]

You returned Ella's little book when you saw your friend next at the Hasting's ball. Fortunately, she was far too occupied by her new and exciting courtship with Mr. Xu to notice that you had ripped out an entire page.

"Found what you need?" Ella teased you.

"I found that I didn't need it," you replied lightly.

She did not push you for a more elaborate response, but seemed surprised when you were approached by none other than Mr. Yoon Jeonghan himself, dressed in the most dapper black dress coat and seeking to escort you to the dance that you had promised him.

"You are an excellent dancer, Mr. Yoon," you complimented him when he took your hand gently in his.

"I can hardly accept that compliment. You have had much more practice than I; your movements are very graceful," Jeonghan replied kindly. He did not give himself enough credit. His dark eyes never broke eye contact with you for a moment, and his step never faltered.

"I hope you are not trying to lure me into a false sense of security so that you may swipe something else from my person. What shall it be this time? My earrings?" you teased.

Jeonghan chuckled. "I assure you I am not quite so nimble, nor so talented a pickpocket."

You narrowed your eyes at him. "But the pearls-"

"-had already fallen off your neck and onto the floor. I noticed them and picked them up when I pulled out your chair," Jeonghan admitted. "I hope you are not terribly disappointed that I did not actually swipe them from you."

"So you were not a thief but the hero who found my necklace?" you asked with a dramatic sigh. "I was wondering why the clasp was broken. It is not nearly as exciting, but I suppose it will have to do."

"If it pleases you, there is something I might try to steal from you yet," Jeonghan suggested.

Your eyes brightened.

"Oh? And what would that be?"

"Well if I told you, you would guard it too well," he protested. "It is the golden rule of any pickpocket. The victim must be caught unawares."

You narrowed your eyes. "That will prove a difficult challenge, then, Mr. Yoon. I am already far too aware of you."

Jeonghan smiled. His hand came up to meet your gloved one.

"I am up for the challenge, Miss Jeon."

"And you think it is a good idea to challenge the woman who is currently holding her tongue with your secrets? I would be careful, Mr. Yoon. If you become too light-fingered, then I may become loose-lipped," you warned teasingly.

"I can think of ways to keep your lips occupied, so that they have no leisure to be spilling secrets."

You gasped at Jeonghan's audacity and your cheeks instantly felt hot at the suggestion. You opened and closed your mouth like a goldfish for a moment until the dance came to an end, and Jeonghan gave you a smirk and a bow.

"Have a nice evening, Miss Jeon," he said lightly. "I will see you when it is time for me to pay my next instalment."

—-------------------------------

It was difficult not to be swept up in the whirlwind of emotions that Yoon Jeonghan brought with him over the next few weeks. It was a never-ending game. Jeonghan was the perfect gentleman on the surface. He helped you down from your horse after a pleasant ride at the park, opened doors and pulled out chairs for you- but every now and then, when nobody else was listening, he would let something suggestive slip in that low, mischievous tone of his that made your face heat up, and your heart pound.

You were rapidly becoming quite enamoured with the man, and inevitably, others began to take notice.

"Oh, look," Ella commented one afternoon, during a pleasant walk that you were both sharing in the park. "It's your new admirer."

You tried to mask your enthusiasm. You were not formally courting Mr. Yoon (yet), and despite your ongoing flirtations, he had not confessed any serious intentions towards you.

"He is not my admirer-"

Ella scoffed. "Well he certainly never looks at any woman but you. Have you not noticed? Whenever you are in the room his eyes are always on you."

You bit your lip. "Do you really think so?"

"You should be careful, my friend. You know what they say about Mr. Yoon, he is quite the villain-"

"Yes, I know," you cut her off sharply. You disliked hearing Jeonghan spoken about that way. "I have not found anything villainous about his manners so far. He has been a perfect gentleman in his behaviour towards me."

Ella looked at you with surprise. "Miss Jeon, do you perhaps really have feelings for-"

She was interrupted by the approach of Mr. Yoon Jeonghan. To your surprise, Jeonghan was accompanied by your brother. Although the two men were indeed known to be friends and a stroll through the park was not unusual or remarkable, you knew better.

Wonwoo did not trouble himself to take afternoon strolls in the park for no good reason.

"What a lovely surprise Miss Jeon, Miss Williams," Mr. Yoon greeted you both pleasantly. "I see you ladies noticed that the weather was pleasant enough for a stroll. May we join you?"

Ella giggled. "Of course, we would never refuse the company of two gentlemen."

There was a subtle but evidently intentional manoeuvring that took place immediately upon Ella's invitation. The path was not wide enough for four people to walk side-by-side. Your brother squeezed into the gap beside Miss Williams, and left you to fall a little behind them with Jeonghan by your side.

"Miss Williams," your brother could be heard saying in front of you. "Could I persuade you to walk alongside the trees with me? I am afraid my eyes are rather sensitive to the sunlight and I would appreciate the shade."

Ella seemed surprised. "Oh- yes, of course, Mr. Jeon…"

They drifted a little further away and you felt your heartbeat quicken as you looked up at the handsome man that stood beside you. Jeonghan's hair gently ruffled in the afternoon breeze but his eyes stayed fixed firmly on you.

"Well," you said to him with a smile. "If you have persuaded Wonwoo to step into the park on a pleasant spring afternoon, then you must have something very important to say to me indeed," you teased.

Jeonghan chuckled. "Was it so evident?"

"You could have written to me, if you wished to convey something in confidence."

"I did not know that you wished for me to write to you," Jeonghan admitted lightly. "But all the same, I believe some things are best discussed in person. Including the question of whether you really wish for us to initiate a�� written correspondence."

You flushed. He made it sound so intimate. Yoon Jeonghan left no room for doubt that it was only the most romantic of correspondences that he referred to.

"Then do tell me what has brought you- and my brother- here this afternoon," you questioned.

"It has not escaped my attention that over the last few weeks, you and I have been engaging in increasingly flirtatious conversations," Jeonghan began. He had a small smile on his face. "I am sure you know this- but you are the most beautiful, intelligent and striking woman of my acquaintance."

Your embarrassment was evident. It was a surprisingly straightforward compliment coming from Jeonghan. You could not think of any way to play it off in a teasing or light-hearted manner.

"T-thank you," you mumbled. "I am quite flattered that you hold me in such high regard."

"I hold you in excessively high regard," Jeonghan reassured you. "Which is why I do not wish for there to be any confusion or misunderstanding. My intentions- my advances towards you, however playful, have always been backed by honourable intentions."

"And what are these honourable intentions?" you asked quietly.

"I would very much like to begin a formal courtship with you, Miss Jeon. That would be the natural progression of our relationship. Unless I am sorely mistaken- you have perhaps been waiting for me to make such a request."

You could not lie.

You nodded.

Jeonghan sighed. "Perhaps I have been selfish. I indulged my affections and attraction towards you too openly. But the truth is, Miss Jeon, my current familial situation is… complicated. I fear that any woman I publicly court would become the subject of much negative attention and suffer public scorn."

You looked at him with surprise. "I do not understand. Is this regarding your sisters? Or your step-mother?"

"My step-mother has some very specific anxieties," Jeonghan admitted. "She is not an unkind woman but she is worried about her future, and my father failed to provide for her in his will. I have promised that I will provide for her for as long as she lives but she doesn't trust me."

You bit your lip. "I see."

"She has already painted me as a villain before the ton- a fact you are well aware of. Any woman I court or marry will suffer the same fate. She will accuse you of stealing from her and her daughters and tarnish your reputation. I do not want you to face her scorn. You are well-loved by the ton- and rightly so."

You took a deep breath and turned to look at Jeonghan. There was honesty in his eyes and worry; worry for you, you realised. He was worried about the impact his complicated family would have on your happiness and reputation.

"Mr. Yoon," you said slowly. "I will not pretend that my reputation means nothing to me. But there are things that I am prepared to sacrifice it for."

"You should not have to make such a sacrifice."

"I would rather not," you admitted. "But I must ask. Is there no way to resolve your step-mother's worries?"

"I have initiated proceedings to transfer property to her name," Jeonghan explained. "And to set up a trust for her. But there are legal complications and it is a lengthy process. Once my sister is finally married, my stepmother may feel more comfortable as she will be able to rely on her son-in-law for financial security. I worry that she may always perceive my efforts as underhanded."

"I-I see."

Jeonghan took a deep breath and took your hand gently in his. He glanced around the park furtively to make sure none of the other occupants were looking at you- and then quickly lifted your hand to his mouth and pressed his lips to your knuckles.

You were speechless. "I-I…"

"I do not know what to do, Miss Jeon. I agreed to become a villain to help my sister but I never imagined that I might fall in love, or that my beloved would have to share in my sacrifices. I cannot ask you to bear this burden for me. It may be years until it is fully resolved."

Your hand felt warm.

"Are you asking me to wait for you, Mr. Yoon?" you whispered.

"I do not presume to ask anything of you," Jeonghan told you gently. "I am yours. I shall do whatever you ask of me-without objection."

Your heart leapt. It was a strange feeling- perhaps you should have hoped for a more traditional confession, something along the lines of I will die unless you marry me, my love! but somehow this was even more romantic.

Mr. Yoon Jeonghan was not begging or pleading or persuading you.

No, he had simply placed his cards on the table and given you the power to make his next move.

It struck you in a sudden moment how much you loved this man. This handsome, selfless caring man with a mischievous streak who looked at you with his angelic face and intense eyes and lit a fire in your heart. He had given you more respect in this moment than most gentlemen would ever willingly offer a lady in their lifetime.

"Then ask me to court you," you whispered. "I believe we have both proven that we can be trusted to keep a secret."

Jeonghan smiled softly. "Is that what you wish? A secret courtship?"

"It would be the most thrilling thing we have done so far- and you stole my pearls the first time we spoke, so the standard was not particularly low to begin with."

Jeonghan laughed.

"Then it is done. You may prepare yourself to be passionately wooed, Miss Jeon- in secret."

—--------------------------------------------

Wonwoo was not pleased with the turn of events.

"Yes, I agreed to accompany him to the park so that he might speak to you about his intentions," your brother admitted. "But I did not expect that I would become a courier boy to deliver love letters back and forth while you both played at a clandestine dalliance."

You raised your eyebrows at your brother. "What did you expect?"

"That Jeonghan would either propose to you or end your flirtation."

"He will propose to me. Once his sister is married, and he has cleared his name in society," you replied simply.

"If you wish to court each other then you should do it with our parents permission," Wonwoo pressed, as though it was obvious. "Mother may be disappointed that you managed to choose the only man in the ton with a reputation for stealing dowries but surely she could be made to see reason eventually."

You sighed. "Wonwoo."

"What?"

"Your own reputation in society is hardly spotless enough. I overheard Viscount Hong's younger sister talking about you during a ladies' tea the other day. She used some select words to describe you, and none of them were pleasant. What did you do to offend her?"

Wonwoo flushed. "Do not speak to me of her. She is quite mad."

You laughed. "Miss Hong? But she is said to be a sweet little creature."

"You are changing the subject," Wonwoo accused. "I will deliver your love letters for now but when the time comes, I expect you will repay my debt."

"I would be delighted to deliver any love letters you wish to send."

Wonwoo sighed and turned back to his book while you giggled.

—-----------------------------------------------------------

It became necessary, in due course, to reveal your secret courtship to Ella Williams once you detected her increasing suspicion. She was surprisingly accepting of the news- and although you did not reveal the exact nature of Jeonghan’s familial secrets, you reassured her that Jeonghan was simply quite misunderstood.

“I cannot believe it,” Ella gushed, happy for you. “Has he declared his love for you yet?”

You hesitated. “Not in those exact words, no, but he has made his affections quite clear.”

“How shocking! To think that of all the eligible men in my book, you should have fallen in love with Mr Yoon Jeonghan! I had set my heart on Viscount Hong for you. But it is just as well; it appears that Joshua has made a proposal to a young lady and they are now engaged to be married next week.”

You raised an eyebrow with interest.

“Oh? Who is the fortunate young lady?”

“One of the elder Lee girls. It is so strange; she is not particularly beautiful, nor does she have a dowry worth boasting of. There are so many siblings in the Lee family, you know, the estate is stretched quite thin among them. But I suppose love can be unpredictable. Apparently Joshua has been smitten with Miss Lee for some time now,” Ella mused.

You giggled. “And what news of your dear Mr. Xu?”

“Oh!” Ella cried. “Do not speak to me of him, I am quite heartbroken. He resumes his travels in Asia next week, and he has promised to write to me regularly but you know how long it takes for letters to be delivered from overseas. I fear I shall not see him until the next season.”

Your smile faltered as the thought of the season nearing its end struck you.

“Yes… once the season ends Mr. Yoon shall return to his estate with his family for the winter.”

Ella smiled at you sympathetically. “Are you worried about him?”

“We see each other once or twice a week while we are both in London. That will not be possible once he returns to the countryside. I am sure he might try to meet me, but I am afraid that we shall to satisfy ourselves with letters in the meantime. I have always been so terrible at writing letters! I shall suffer the consequences now.”

"I am sure your courtship will last. Mr. Yoon does not seem like the kind of gentleman to give up what is important to him," Ella reassured you.

"I certainly hope not."

—-------------------------------------------------------

The evening before Jeonghan was set to leave for the countryside for the rest of the year, you had a brief moment alone with him in the gardens behind the assembly rooms. This secret rendez-vous was enabled, to your surprise, by Viscount Hong. He assured you and Jeonghan that he and Miss Lee (now newly Viscountess Hong) had used the tiny cove behind a clump of trees in the garden to have private conversations many times before.

You would have expected such scandalous behaviour from Kim Mingyu, perhaps, but certainly not from Viscount Hong.

In any case, you were not inclined to prod or complain.

"Do you promise to write to me every week?" you asked Jeonghan. He was smiling down at you, and his hands reached out to clasp yours tightly.

"I promise I will write," he reassured you.

"I will be extremely upset if you do not. If I do not receive a letter from you for more than a week, then I shall assume that you have fallen in love with someone else and mean to end our courtship," you insisted with a pout.

"That would be a fair assumption."

"Mr. Yoon!"

He laughed and boldly lifted his hand to stroke his thumb across your cheek. Your face became hot under his touch. It was an innocent but bold gesture and you struggled not to look too affected.

“Perhaps,” Jeonghan suggested boldly. “It would be easier for me to remember to write to you every week if you gave me a token of your affection- something to remember you by?”

You narrowed your eyes at him. “I hope you are not trying to swipe more of my jewellery.”

“Something more… intimate.”

“Such as?”

Jeonghan leaned closer and brought his lips near your ear. You could feel his warm breath on the side of your face and all your senses were suddenly flooded and overwhelmed with the physical proximity of this handsome and charming man.

“Let me have a lock of your hair, my love.”

You stared up at Jeonghan as his hand gently lifted a lock of your hair and he twirled his index finger around it. He never failed to surprise you; although you should have expected, knowing his mischievous nature, that it was only a matter of time until he suggested something so romantic and scandalous.

He lifted your hair to his lips and kissed it softly.

“Mr. Yoon,” you choked out, flustered.

“You had better start calling me Jeonghan, love. I hardly think that formalities will be required between us once I have placed this lock of your hair in my locket and tasted your sweet lips,” he replied.

Before you could even think to object, Jeonghan took both.

First, he leaned forward to press his lips to yours. The kiss was sweet and bold; he was gentle yet there was no hesitation in his movements. In response, you pressed yourself closer to him and returned the kiss. You would not see him for many months so this was hardly the time to act coy. You let your hands slide up into his tousled hair and melted into his passionate embrace.

After a prolonged embrace and many eager kisses, Jeonghan pulled back. You were both slightly out of breath. Your heart was racing and you found yourself instinctively leaning into him again, begging him for another kiss. But Jeonghan had other plans. He pulled out a small pocket-knife and with a single fluid movement, sliced off a tiny lock of your hair.

You stared at him as he opened a small locket and placed the lock inside of it.

“I will return this to you,” he whispered in your ear softly. “When I have a wedding ring to give you in return.”

You bit your lip and nodded.

“Then I will pray you return it soon.”

“I will, my love.”

—----------------------------------------------------------

Epilogue

The winter was a difficult one. Jeonghan wrote to you regularly and even came to visit you once under the guise of visiting your brother. Yet it was incredibly difficult to be apart from him. You had never had much patience for sitting and writing letters, preferring the intimacy of conversation, and the secrecy of your courtship meant that you could not confide in anyone about how much you missed your lover.

(While your brother Wonwoo would begrudgingly carry your correspondence and pass messages to Jeonghan from you, he did not make for the best confidante.)

You spent every waking moment waiting for the upcoming season, and for Jeonghan’s return to London.

The moment finally arrived; you had been waiting all morning at the window to the upstairs library when you spotted him riding down the cobblestone street on his dark horse. Your heart leapt when Jeonghan dismounted in front of the entrance. You stood, dropping the knitting that you had been pretending to be doing.

Your father, sitting across the room at his desk, raised a questioning eyebrow at you.

“I-I left some of my sewing thread downstairs,” you explained vaguely before rushing out of the library and running down the stairs. You arrived just in time to see Jeonghan enter the lobby in his riding coat.

The butler bowed to him and conveyed his apologies.

“My regrets, Mr. Yoon,” the butler was saying to him politely. “But Mr, Jeon Wonwoo is not at home at present. Perhaps you may wish to return later this evening?”

Jeonghan looked up at you and his eyes widened when they met yours. Your heart leapt in delight at the sight of him and you could not bear to watch the butler send him away simply because your brother was not home. It had been months since you had spoken to him.

“Oh- I am sure Wonwoo will be back very soon,” you interrupted hurriedly. “Mr. Yoon can perhaps wait in the drawing room until my brother returns-”

"There is no need for that."

You whirled around at the sound of your father's voice. In your eagerness to see Jeonghan, you had not even realised that your father had followed you out of the library and down the stairs. He had a rather serious expression on his face.

You swallowed. "Father…"

"Mr. Yoon can come join me in the library. And you, my dear daughter, will be kind enough to wait downstairs."

You turned to Jeonghan who looked slightly alarmed, but nodded. You watched in silent horror as Jeonghan took off his hat and followed your father up the stairs.

Oh no.

This was not normal. Your father- much like your brother- rarely took an interest in people or company unless prompted to do so. There was no doubt in your mind that if your father wished to speak to Jeonghan alone, then your secret courtship had been discovered.

You turned to the butler desperately. "You must send word to my brother to come at once!"

The butler was startled. "Miss Jeon, are you-"

"Tell him to come immediately and send a servant upstairs to listen in on my father and Mr. Yoon's conversation in the library, I beg you!"

You paced the drawing room nervously for at least twenty minutes. There was no sign of Wonwoo, the servant that had gone upstairs to the library had never returned, and you had no option but to pace nervously up and down the room imagining all the worst possible situations. Would your father take down his hunting rifle and shoot Jeonghan? Would he challenge him to a duel? Perhaps it was nothing- perhaps your father had no idea of your courtship and simply wished to speak to Jeonghan about matters of business-

The large doors to the drawing room opened and Jeonghan entered alone.

Your eyes widened.

“What happened?”

Jeonghan looked slightly tense. He forced a smile when he saw you, and took both of your hands in his before guiding you to sit down in one of the armchair. He kneeled in front of your chair; entwined hands placed in your lap.

“Does he know?” you whispered.

“He… had his suspicions,” Jeonghan replied slowly. “It appears that when a woman who can rarely be persuaded to sit still long enough to pen down a quick note suddenly begins to spend hours locked in her room writing letters that she insists on delivering to the post office herself, other members of the family take notice.”

You flushed. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to-”

“I did not think it was right to lie to him. I told him the truth,” Jeonghan told you quietly.

“What did he say?”

“What any good father would have said upon making such a discovery.”

You frowned. “Now is not the time for games, Mr. Yoon Jeonghan-”

Jeonghan brought your entwined hands up to his lips and he kissed your knuckles softly before looking up at you with a playful smile. His dark eyes twinkled in the bright morning light that streamed through the curtains.

“Miss Jeon… would you do me the honour of becoming my wife?”

—------------------------------------------------------------------------

A/N: If you want to see the fallout of this proposal from Jeonghan's sister's perspective, then go read 'Patience' lmao.

Thank you so much again for all your support! I'm shocked by how many notes my chapter are receiving considering that I barely started my blog a month ago and thank you SO MUCH to everyone that reads, likes, reblogs or leaves a comment. I can be a little flaky but this is one series I really hope to finish and it's really encouraging that people seem to enjoy it too.

I might put up a poll on my blog to decide which member I write next- feel free to check it out later!

And as always, feel free to leave any feedback or thoughts. I'm not sensitive lol.

#seventeen scenarios #seventeen fluff #jeonghan scenarios #jeonghan fluff #jeonghan series #seventeen series #jeonghan x reader #seventeen angst #jeonghan angst #regency!au #seventeen fanfiction #svt fluff #svt imagines

591 notes · View notes

sinner-sunflower · 10 months ago

Text

A HH Lucifer-centric AU 22/22

PART 1, PART 2, PART 3, PART 4, PART 5, PART 6, PART 7, PART 8, PART 9, PART 10, PART 11, PART 12, PART 13, PART 14, PART 15, PART 16, PART 17, PART 18, PART 19, PART 20, PART 21

STORY 2 - Sequel

I can't believe it?? I made it, Ma!

Luci's General Suit inspired by this FANART on twt by @kajina_97

This is the COMIC that inspired me to write the whole thing because I wanted this ending so bad klajdklsa it's by @Sandranetta_13 on twt

Dk what tomorrow might entai. Might be the first chapter for the sequel?

Let me know what you guys think! Please, I'm very desperate.

I'm willing to do a Q&A regarding your thoughts. DMs and Asks are OPEN! <3

Will link the sequel here once posted

---------------------------------------------------

Everything was relatively normal the following week. His and Charlie's long overdue moment with no more miscommunication made Lucifer feel a whole lot better. He couldn't ask for a better daughter.

Dressing himself in one of his battle suits, he felt like he could take on the world. Nothing says King of Hell like your best warrior outfit and a badass sword in full display.

Lucifer: Looking pretty dapper there, me.

Lucifer doesn't even bother to style his hair- it now flows animatedly like that of Lilith's.

Flowers were still being sent to him especially when he was first spotted roaming around the hotel after a week-ish long recovery. Charlie had the amazing idea of making a greenhouse or some sort of garden to put all the flowers and keep them alive as long as possible.

They got rid of any red ones after someone sent a buttload of them which then caused him to have a mini panic attack. Alastor is subtly trying to take that moment off his mind by leaving Marigolds everywhere. It's sweet but soon they're going to need a separate greenhouse for just the Marigolds. Where'd he even get these??

Finding his first Marigold of the day, in the bathroom of all places really Alastor??, he makes his way to the lobby. Everyone was there doing their own thing.

Husk and Angel are at the bar as usual, with the latter talking animatedly about something that puts an endearing expression on Husk's face. Nifty is putting on roach puppet shows for Alastor. The radio demon notices him and conveys his most 'help me' face but he just chuckled and gives him a thumbs up. The cyclops named Cherri is today's gift screener, grumbling about the pollen and the shitty taste some demons have.

Charlie and Vaggie were talking to a small group of demons by the entrance. As soon as his daughter sees him, she said something to the group then walked over to him.

Charlie: Good morning, dad!

Lucifer: You look busy.

Charlie: They're sinners who are asking about the hotel! I'm so happy that people are at least coming here to check it out. Did you have a good sleep?

Lucifer: Well, I don't feel like passing out today. So pretty good!

Charlie: That's great, dad!

Angel: Short king! Looking good in that fit!

Cherri: Yeah! Do a spin, hot stuff!

He blushes at the sudden attention. Everyone is looking at him in awe- maybe it was too much?

Alastor: Nonsense, dear.

Alastor appeared beside him in a flurry of shadows, seemingly reading his mind. He bends down at Lucifer's level to whisper in his ear. He plucked the Marigold Lucifer was holding, putting it behind the King's hair.

Alastor: I, for one, think you never looked so.. raveshing~

Damn him.

Lucifer: Shut up.

Lucifer hisses in response. Like, seriously? In front of his daughter? Thank Father, Charlie didn't hear that.

Charlie: Yeah! You look so cool. I don't think I've seen you wear that except for when there's a banquet.

Lucifer: Yeah, well, I wanted to look put together after everything.

Charlie softens at his words.

Alastor: No need for that, sire. I'm sure no one is foolish enough to comment negatively on what the King of Hell chooses to look like.

Lucifer: What does that make you then?

Alastor: Privileged, my King~

Lucifer rolls his eyes at the audacity but he can't help but smile. Man, he never thought he'd miss their constant banter.

Charlie: You look awesome, dad, okay? Al, please slow down with the Marigolds, Nifty's going crazy. Oh! Dad, right, Aunt Bel called said that the Sloth Ring is making incredible progress and that she'll visit again soon. I think Aunt Bee is planning a party with the other Sins and would like it to be held here in Pride! At the hotel! It would be so cool and of course if you're not ready I can tell them and maybe a little get together would be better. I'll even invite Sev! He gave flowers for you too and Vaggie was so jealous when I said he was my ex and thought the flowers were for me, she was so cute-

Lucifer tried, but he stopped listening halfway through his daughter's talk. It was a bit of an information overload but he kept a small, genuine smile on his face for her.

Then something caught his eye that made him stopped smiling altogether.

Charlie notices this causing her to stop talking.

Charlie: Dad?

He should answer but his eyes were locked on the wall behind Charlie. Plastered on the higher part of the lobby's wall was a glowing mark- gold wings with a dot on the center.

Lucifer turns around so fast to look outside the hotel's window. Heaven looks so out of place up there, sticking out like a sore thumb upon Hell's red skies.

A glint in the distance made him act. Without warning, he took off with such force that those inside the hotel were knocked down by the gust of his wings.

He breaks the window on his way out and pulls out Lightbringer. Lucifer brings the sword up and-

A powerful explosion lit up the sky. The sky split in two and fire appeared high and wide over Pride. At that moment, everyone became so hot that they couldn't bear it, as if their whole body was on fire. They wanted to rip their skin off just to get a sense of relief but then the sky shut closed. A strong thump was heard by every demon in the vicinity and then they were all thrown a few meters.

It felt like an eternity before Charlie and the others could get their bearings. Those that didn't get knocked out went outside, once there, they see Lucifer far up in the sky, holding up a flaming sword. The signature pentagram of the city has been fractured by whatever happened and demons all around were either hurt or unconscious.

Charlie: Dad!

Charlie calls out to her dad but he doesn't acknowledge her. His gaze never leaving Heaven, as if he's seeing something that no one else can.

--------------------------------------

A screen locked on Hell zooms out as the machine's voice rang out 'target disengaged'.

An angel looking similarly to Lucifer, except there's blue tints on the spots where Lucifer had reds, was looking down at Hell pulling back a large, golden gun. They blew the smoke residue and sighed.

Michael: Hello, Lucifer... Still causing trouble, I see.

---------------------------------------

it's done??

cliffhanger but don't worry, there's a sequel!

I spent 30 minutes looking for that comic that inspired this ending.

Did y'all catch that Lemmino reference? I'd have that description in my head rent free ever since I watched Grazed by the Apocalypse

Again, I'd love to hear your thoughts on this! This was my first published baby and I'm so proud !

102 notes · View notes

thatmexisaurusrex · 6 months ago

Text

Several Sentence Sunday

Okay, so I was tagged by @perfectlysunny02 and @do-androids-dream-ao3acc for this and because this snippet is 😂 more than a few sentences, I'll put the tagging for this up here - anyone who wants to do Several Sentences Sunday, just say I tagged you.

This is for a fic idea that I just thought of on a walk? It's basically a Teacher AU. Sort of. Buck is a second grade teacher, who befriended Eddie when Chris was in his class seven years ago. Tommy is still a Firefighter Pilot, but he and his best friend Natalia Dollenmeyer decided to have a kid together fourteen years ago. They co-parent and have a kid Chris' age named Natalia (she goes by Nat or Junior). Tommy met Eddie on a call and they became fast friends. Eddie learns that Nat has CP (I'm basing Nat a bit off of famous wheelchair racer Hannah Cockroft) and recommends the school that Chris goes to. Natalia and Tommy agree the school will be good for Nat and enroll her there, which is where Tommy has his meet-cute with Evan. Enjoy! 🥰

*****

“We’re lost,” said Nat, “Aren’t we?”

Tommy was lost.

Absolutely lost.

“We’re not lost,” Tommy lied as he stared hopelessly around the halls, “We’re just – turned around a bit.”

Tommy could navigate the skies like the back of his hand, but the moment he touched the ground, all that sense of direction disappeared like a mirage in a desert. He had visited this school three times before this. First when he, Natalia, and Nat went on the tour of the grounds. Second when he had dropped Nat off to take the entrance exam. Third for the parent meeting. He had been shown this school on three separate occasions.

And he didn’t know where the fuck he was.

Nat laughed.

“Dad, let’s ask for directions,” said Nat, “What do you always say?”

Tommy.

Sighed.

“When you don’t know where you’re going, it’s okay to ask for directions,” said Tommy back to his child.

“Not hard to admit,” said Nat, and Tommy liked that he had at least taught her that.

That it was okay to ask for help. It took so long for Tommy to teach himself that. It was good that she understood that now as Nat wheeled herself over to the first new adult she saw. She pulled up in front of him, waving her hand to get his attention.

“Hi,” she said, her smile all charm, “My name’s Natalia, but I go by Nat. or Junior. But Nat works just fine. Over there is my dad. Can you show us where Ms. Flores’ room is?”

And.

Oh god, he was hot.

Fuck, the man was handsome. He had these wonderful dirty blond curls. He was wearing this dapper green sweater. And he had this distinctive birthmark that peppered right on the edge of his eyebrow. He seemed amused, if not delighted by how friendly Nat was.

“You are, are you?” asked the man, grinning as he –

He.

Looked.

Tommy’s.

Way.

And Tommy felt his heart skip a beat. He did his best not to think about that as he walked over to the man and said a little smoother than he felt, “Yes. I’m her dad. Tommy Kinard. A pleasure to meet you.”

Should Tommy be introducing himself? He was only asking for directions. All the same, he found himself extending his hand and – and the man shook it.

“E – Evan Buckley,” said the man, said Evan, as he kept shaking Tommy’s hand, “I’m a second grade teacher here. Not. Wandering the halls aimlessly or something. Not sure why I said it like that.”

Huh.

That name sounded familiar. Though. Tommy wasn’t really thinking about that.

Tommy laughed.

“I kind of assumed you were a teacher, but thanks for the clarification,” laughed Tommy, and why was Tommy still shaking this man’s hand, “Nice to know you’re not just aimlessly wandering the halls.”

“Yeah. That would be weird,” said Evan, still shaking Tommy’s hand, “Red flags there.”

“Wait. Second grade? We’re not even on the right side of the school, Dad,” said Nat, which reminded Tommy to actually stop shaking this man’s hand.

“Yeah. You need to go to the east side of the school. It’s the big, sort of mismatched building that looks recently built. Ms. Flores is, uh – she’s freshman year, so she should be on the first floor. I’ll show you where it is,” explained Evan as he walked them out of the building they were in and toward the complete opposite side of the school’s campus, “She’s great. All the high school teachers are amazing, but she’s a fantastic English teacher. She runs this book club I’m in. She really makes you think.”

“She does, huh? I know Nat’s mom met her during a separate tour they did without me for the athletics at the school. Nat – Nat came here partially because there’s an actual wheelchair racing team and a coach here,” explained Tommy.

“Not your wife? Her mom?” asked Evan who seemed to perk up, and – and.

Huh.

“Not – not that I mean to pry, I’m sorry,” continued Evan, laughing nervously.

“No, we’re, uh. We’re coparents. We kind of decided at the same time that we wanted a kid and, we, uh. Had one together as friends. And we ended up with the best, most active kid in the world,” explained Tommy, which.

He knew people weren’t always so accepting of their situation. They barely got past the parent interview. People didn’t tend to get why a gay man and a bi woman simply decided to be parents together.

But.

They had.

And it had been all the better for them both.

“She’s also going to try out for seated discus,” gushed Tommy, “She made regionals in seated discus last year. You should have seen her.”

“Dad. You don’t need to give him our life story. I don’t know if I’ll even make either of those teams,” said Nat.

“You’re making it. I know you will,” beamed Tommy, “We’re also partially here because a friend of mine suggested this school. His kid loves it here, so we thought it could be a good fit.”

“Chris is going to be in my class, actually,” said Nat excitedly as Nat pressed the button to open the door, “Apparently, he’s a cool kid, so I have like an automatic cool kid position.”

“Just use that power responsibly,” said Tommy as they walked in.

“I make no promises,” said Nat as she looked down at her schedule on her phone, “Room E105… there.”

She pointed to the room with the number above it.

“I’ll see you later, Dad. Thanks for helping us, Mr. Buckley,” said Nat as she sped to the classroom and turned inside, yelling, “Chris! My guy! How was summer in Texas?”

“Confident kid,” Evan said.

“She is. People say she gets it from me, but I think she gets it from her mom,” gushed Tommy, because he liked to brag about Nat.

“I don’t know. You seem pretty confident yourself,” said Evan, smiling at Tommy.

And.

Touching Tommy’s shoulder.

And.

Was – was this a moment? Was Tommy having a moment with this random teacher he just met?

Then.

The bell rang.

And.

Evan was still smiling at him; still touching Tommy’s shoulder.

“Do you not have a class to teach right now?” asked Tommy curiously.

“Shi – shoot. Right. Bell. Uh. Nice to meet you, Tommy,” said Evan as he rushed out of the building.

“Nice to meet you too,” said Tommy, waving at Evan as he ran out of the doors.

#911 abc #bucktommy #bucktommy snippet #tommy kinard #evan buckley #teacher au #firefighter pilot tommy #teacher evan buckley #meet-cute #kid fic #several sentence sunday

49 notes · View notes

wh0re43van · 1 year ago

Text

Yes, sir (Professor!Evan Peters x Reader)

Summary: You’re three credits away from earning your bachelors degree. This is your second attempt at the same math course and you’re once again struggling. Thankfully, you have a very helpful professor.

Warnings: smut, teacher X adult student, not proofread

Word count: 3.6k

A/N: Another long one, but I prefer to develop a plot rather than just writing smut. I am working on some requests atm, this semester is almost over so I’ll soon have some free time to get caught up! Thank you for reading, enjoy!

I trudge my winter boots into class and take my regular seat next to the window. Snow is dusting the brown grass and white sidewalks of the courtyard. I shift my gaze to the board to see whatever stupid formulas we’ll be learning in this chapter. I groan to myself before taking a sip from my coffee, wishing I had spiked it before I left. This is the last chapter we’re learning before end of semester exams and I’m teetering right on the passing line with a 70%. I swear if I have to repeat this class again, I’m dropping out.

“Alright,” Mr. Peters stern but kind voice bounces off the concrete walls and into my ears as he enters the room. The dapper man takes off his scarf and sets his leather satchel onto his wooden desk. He sheds himself of his long coat and shakes the melting snowflakes out of his brown curls. He catches me admiring him. I look away quickly, but not before I see the wink he sends my way, making my heart skip a beat.

“You all should look more excited,” he grins, scanning the unenthused faces of his students. “You only have a few more classes with me,” Mr. Peters takes a seat in the worn leather chair. “At least most of you. Some of you may see me yet again next semester if you don’t buckle down these last few weeks,” he sends another look in my direction, this one more stern than flirty. Again, I look away from his gaze.

•

Class went by painstakingly slow as usual. I did my best to pay attention but ultimately resorted to making mental notes of what I need to pick up from the store and inevitably admiring how good my professor looks in his suit.

With Mr. Peters dismissal, I pack my belongings into my bag and make my way to the door.

“Miss y/l/n, would you come speak with me please,” Mr. Peters voice stops me in my tracks. I sigh and turn around, attempting to ignore the butterflies in my stomach that erupted when he spoke my name.

“Yes, sir?” I ask as I stop in front of his desk.

“I’m concerned with your grade in my course, y/n. You seem to be struggling this semester as well,” he expresses his concern folding his hands on top of the cool wood. “I notice that you seem to be a bit distracted in my class. May I ask why that may be,” he grins a bit with the statement. His voice low and serious, but laced with a playful knowing.

“I… well,” I blush at the eye contact that he refuses to break with me. I’m not ashamed to admit that I find my professor extremely attractive, and if I’m not mistaken, he hasn’t been too admit on hiding his amorous advances towards me. I often catch his eyes lingering on me and finding any excuse to come to my seat or speak with me privately. Of course, we’ve never discussed these events or feelings, but I do believe that there is a mutual understanding that makes me nervous, in turn amusing Mr. Peters.

“I think I need some help prepping for the exam. A private lesson would probably do me a lot of good. Do you think it’s too late to apply for a tutor?” I ask before bringing my finger up to my mouth to chew on my nails nervously.

“Oh y/n, I’d be more than happy to tutor you.” Mr. peters smiles, showing his darling dimples. “Could you stick around after our next class?” he asks, finally breaking eye contact with me to pack up his belongings. I let out a breath I didn’t realize I was holding.

“Uhm yes, sir, but I don’t want to trouble you. I’m sure you’re a busy man,”

“Oh, I am,” he grins standing up and walking towards the door. I follow behind him. He places a now gloved hand on the handle then leans in closer to me, as if he’s telling a secret. “But I always have time for my favorite student,” he opens the door for me and I scurry out into the empty hall.

“Th-thank you professor.” is all I can stutter, staring at my boots in an effort to hide my pink cheeks, before I run off to my car.

•

It’s been two days since my last class with Mr. Peters. Our conversation hasn’t left my mind once. In fact, it’s led to some rather inappropriate thoughts. I think of him constantly. When making dinner I’m thinking of his low voice whispering in my ear, sending chills down my spine. While driving to work the thought of his bare skin against mine leaves my knees weak. Walking my dog, I can’t help but wonder how exactly he would have his way with me. What would he have me do if I told him I was his for the taking? And most shameful of all; I wonder if he’s having similar thoughts about me.

Pathetic, I know, but I just can’t help it.

Now, I find myself standing in front of my mirror, the entire contents of my closet scattered across my floor as I attempt to pick an outfit. I’ve settled on a dark ankle length wool skirt and knit stockings that come up to my mid-thigh to keep me warm. I’ve tucked a low cut burnt orange sweater into my skirt and behind a thick leather belt. I smile at my reflection. Mr. Peters is a man of class and poise; I believe he’ll find my outfit choice rather charming. I throw on my coat and gloves after lacing my boots and head off to class.

•

I anxiously find my seat in the chilly classroom as I dust the snowflakes out of my hair. Before sitting, I hang my damp coat on the back of the cold chair after tucking my gloves into the coat pocket.

“Good afternoon class,” Mr. Peters voice silences the few mumbles scattered around the room. I hear his footsteps making their way to his desk. I don’t dare turn my head to look at him. “I hope everyone is doing well.” The professor sets his bags down and organizes his plans for the day, taking a sip of coffee from his ceramic travel mug as he sits down in the leather chair. “We’re going to be continuing with our review of chapter 12 today,” his eyes scour the room, finally landing on me, scanning my body up and down before a smile tugs at the corners of his mouth. I can’t help but grin back before he turns his body to begin writing notes on the board, starting the lesson. I bounce my leg with anticipation just waiting for my private session with Mr. peters. I long for his proximity, the feeling of his breath on my skin, the scent of his cologne filling my senses. I’m determined to have my way with him after class, if he’ll have me of course. God the next three hours of this class is going to be torture.

•

At last, I’m the only student left in the class. The silence is unbearably loud as Mr. Peters walks to the back of the room to latch the heavy wooden door. My heart pounds with each footstep as he approaches my seat, resting a warm hand on my shoulder.

“Why don’t you pull a chair up to my desk Miss y/l/n.” he suggests. I simply nod standing to pick up the chair. Mr. Peters tisks. “What am I thinking? Allow me y/n,” he steps in front of me to pick up the seat. “You’re wearing such a lovely outfit, I wouldn’t want you to risk ripping that beautiful skirt,” he carries the chair to his desk as I follow behind him. He bends over to set it down. “What’s the occasion?” he asks with a smirk as he straightens back up to meet my eyes. With a surge of confidence,

“I believe you know just the occasion, Mr. Peters.” I smirk back, not allowing myself to break away from his gaze.

“Hm,” he glances over my outfit once more, pulling his bottom lip between his teeth briefly. “So I do, Miss y/l/n.” with that he makes his way to his own seat.

“So, y/n,” Mr. Peters begins before sliding me a packet of papers. “I’ve ran off a more in-depth study guide for you. I suppose the best use of our time, given that the final exam is in just a few weeks, will be to make sure that you understand the core concepts that you will be tested on,” he speaks softly leaning on his elbows rested on the dark wood of the tabletop. I mimic his stance, positioning my elbows on the table, being sure to lean over enough so that some cleavage is exposed. Mr. Peters immediately picks up on my game, glancing down to look at my chest.

“I’ll agree to anything at this point sir. I trust you know best after all, professor,” I coo, looking at the handsome man through my lashes.

“Now, you don’t mean anything Miss y/l/n. I’m sure there’s a lot of things off the table for a lovely young lady such as yourself,” Mr. Peters says lowly. His dark eyes gaze into mine, just mere inches in between us. The proximity of his body to mine and the gruffness of his voice sends a surge of warmth between my legs. I cross and squeeze them in an attempt to get some friction on my core.

“Mr. Peters,” I lean further over the table, my face now so close to his that I can feel his warm breath on my cheeks. “There’s nothing ladylike about the things I would do for you,” I whisper looking into his lust filled eyes. Instantly, Mr. Peters leans forward, closing the space between us. His soft lips move in rhythm with mine. The kiss is polite and gentle. I pull back to look him in the eyes.

“I’m sorry y/n,” he looks almost guilty as he stands from his seat then walks over to face me on the other side of his desk.

“Why are you apologizing?” I ask, curious about his suddenly bashful demeaner.

“I shouldn’t have kissed you like that. I didn’t even ask permission,” he runs his hand through his hair, seeming almost stressed.

“Mr. peters,” I look up at him from my seat as he towers above me. “You have my permission to do whatever you like,” I smile innocently, gazing into his dark eyes as my hands slip into his waist band, pulling him closer to me. He bends down to envelop me in another kiss. This one is much more ruff; I can feel his desperation as he wraps his hands around my waist and hoists me up into his arms. Without taking his lips off mine, he sets me on the edge of his desk. I giggle as he slides a hand under my wool skirt, running his hand up to find my bare skin where my stocking stop. He smiles into the kiss as I reach for his dark leather belt to pop the buckle undone. He pulls his head away.

“Are you sure you want to do this y/n,” Mr. peters asks, breathless.

“More than anything, Professor,” I answer honestly, my legs still wrapped around his waist.

“I just feel I should take you on a proper date first,” he smiles, brushing some loose hair out of my face.

“Damnit Mr. Peters. If I let you buy me a coffee after this, will you please just fuck me,” I tease, but growing impatient.

“I suppose I can settle for that, since you asked so nicely.” He laughs, shrugging off his blazer and loosening his burgundy tie. He rests his hand on the back of my head, dipping down to meet his lips against mine. His kisses a trail up my jawline and to my ear as I palm him though his slacks. He monas quietly, sending shivers down my spine. My body is burning with lust, I’ve waited so long for this moment. He’s barely touched me and I’m already putty in his strong, warm hands. I slowly move my legs from his waist and stand, spinning us around so that his back is against the desk before dropping to my knees.

“Y/n, you don’t have to do this,” he looks down at me as my fingers work to unbutton his freshly pressed pants.

“Oh, please professor, I’d love to if you’d let me.” My fingers pause as I look up at him, waiting for permission. He just licks and bites his lips, then nods his head. I smile, biting my lip back at him, happily unzipping his pants and sliding them down along with his boxers. With no hesitation, I take his hardened length into my hand rubbing the precum around his tip with my thumb, earning a low groan from him.

“You look so handsome like this, Mr. Peters.” I praise, collecting spit in my mouth then licking from base to tip to before taking him as far in my mouth as I can.

“Holy- fuck,” he gasps. Wide eyes staring down at me, watching as I bob my head up and down on his cock. He moans as his strong hand pulls my hair into a ponytail, using it guide me. The way he’s looking into my eyes as I gag on him makes my core ache. His dark eyes focused on mine with his pink lips pulled into a tight line, his neck strained in pleasure. A single brown curl falls from his slicked back hairdo, flopping against his sweaty forehead with every thrust he makes into my mouth. My moment of admiration is cut short when he pulls away from me, allowing me to gasp for breath.

“Get on the desk,” he commands, pushing some papers onto the floor. I smile and quickly hop onto the now empty table.

“How do you want me?” I ask, still catching breath as I wipe the slobber off the side of my mouth.

“First, lets get you out of this,” he undoes my waist belt, then pulls my orange sweater over my head, tossing it onto his chair. I shiver, but not from the cold air hitting my skin. “Much better,” he smiles as he lays a gentle kiss on my lips. “Now lay down and put your legs up,” he orders as he slips off my snow boots.

“Yes sir,” I oblige laying on the cool wood, bending my knees and resting my feet on the edge of the desk, allowing my long skirt to fall and gather around my waist, exposing my stockings and my bare thighs.

“Miss y/l/n, you are truly the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen,” he swoons, laying wet kisses on my thighs. Each peck feels as though it’s charged, sending electric course through my veins. “May I?” he asks permission as his fingers loop into the waist band of my cotton underwear.

“I insist,” I smile. He gets to his knees before pulling the thin fabric off, then grabs my hips, pulling me swiftly to the edge of the table. I gasp the sudden movement as he positions my legs on his shoulders. I hear my professor chuckle lowly.

“Look at you,” he takes his thumb and spreads my slick up to my clit, earning a small moan from me. “So ready for me already?”

“Mr. Peters, I’ve been ready for you since our first class togeth-“ I interrupt myself with a gasp, shooting my hand down to grip his hair as he licks my clit and a single digit slips past my entrance.

“Mm,” he hums, moving his head to look up at me but still pumping into me with his finger, making my toes curl. “I guess the feeling is mutual then. I can’t say I was anything but thrilled to see your name on my roster again this year,” he finishes then goes back to working his expert tongue on my bundle of nerves sending pleasure to every part of my body. My stocking clad thighs tighten around his head and my back arches off the table. No one I’ve ever been with has made me feel this good. His finger hits the perfect spot with every pump, his tongue moves in every way I need it to. My body feels like its on fire in the best way possible.

“I’m so close Mr. Peters,” I encourage him with a moan, feeling the familiar tightness in my stomach as my legs begin to tremble around his head. He responds by slipping another finger inside, curling them into the most sensitive part of my body while he laps at my clit. I feel my walls pulse around his fingers as I come undone, moaning a mix of profanities and his name. Pure bliss surges through my body as he slows down his fingers, allowing me to ride out my orgasm.

“Fuck,” I pant as he stands up, licking my juices off his fingers before grabbing my back, helping me sit up to face him. Mr. peters opens his mouth to say something, but before he can speak I grab his tie, pulling him in to crash his lips into mine, wrapping my legs around him causing his length to rub against my soaked core, earning a groan against my lips. My shaky hands reaches down to his hard cock to pump him.

“You’re sure this is what you want y/n?” he pants against my lips.

“Of course,” I whisper. Mr. Peters reaches down to line himself up with me, slowly sliding in with ease from how slick he’s made me. I wrap my hands around his neck, throwing my head back as a sigh of pleasure escapes my lips.

“Is this okay?” Mr. Peters groans. I nod my head

“Faster,” I pant. His hands snake around my back grabbing my ass through my skirt as he begins to pound into me. I scream in pleasure. Mr. Peters hand clasps over my mouth.

“Not so loud sweetie,” he chuckles, reminding me that there are classes in session down the hall. He uses his hand on my back to pull me impossibly closer, mercilessly thrusting deeper inside me than anything’s ever been before. My eyes roll back as I grab onto the arm muffling my screams. I dig my nails into the sleeve of the white button up as pure euphoria and sweat drips out of my every pore.

“Fuck, you feel so good, y/n.” My professor grunts, watching my breasts bounce with every thrust of his hips. I can do nothing but mumble into his hand, because if he removes it, the whole campus will hear what we’re doing. I feel my second orgasm building as my hole body begins to tremble. I look into Mr. Peters lust filled eyes, as he bites his lip in concentration and pleasure. Now, a few loose curls are stuck to the sheen of sweat on his forehead. The sleeves of his once neatly pressed buttonup is pulled tight against his toned arm as he flexes his bicep in order to keep the death grip on my on my mouth that’s keeping me quiet. I feel my core pulse as I tip over the edge of my second orgasm. Mr. Peters groans loudly, pulling my lips to his in a sloppy kiss to muffle both our screams of pleasure. I release around him, digging my nails into his neck. He reaches down to rub circles on my bundle of nerves, encouraging my orgasm. I bury my head in the the crook of his neck, biting the soft skin as overstimulation soon overtakes the pleasure. Mr. Peters pulls out, pumping himself to his own orgasm as he spills his seed all over my thighs and the knit fabric of my socks, biting his lip and letting out strangled moans.

He lays his foread against mine, placing a kiss to my nose.

“You’re so beautiful.” He pants out in a whisper, then reaches down to tuck himself back into his pants.

“Thank you.” I blush, feeling a bit exposed now. Sitting on his desk topless, pantiless, and covered in my professors semen.

“Allow me to clean you up miss y/l/n,” he walks over to grab some tissues out of his drawer, wiping up the mess he made as best he could.

He grabs my hand and helps me to my trembling feet. I grab my sweater off his chair and slip it onto my sweaty skin.

“uhm,” I look around. “Mr. Peters what have you done with my underwear?” I ask with a giggle.

“Hm,” he pauses his hands that were fixing his tie, looking around as well. “oh, here they are,” he chuckles, grabbing them off the a students chair a few feet away. I take the fabric out of his hand slide them on under my warm skirt. “Allow me to help you with your boots, Miss y/l/n.” he grabs the heavy shoes and sets me down in his desk chair, slipping them on.

“How kind,” I giggle, reaching to bush his loose curls back to where theyre supposed to be. He smiles, laying a kiss on my hand before standing to grab his blazer.

“Now, I believe I owe you a coffee.” He takes my arm in his, leading me to my seat so I can bundle up and collect my belongings.

“Mr. Peters, I was only kidding.” I smile, putting my gloves on before following him to the door.

“Well I most certainly wasn’t, y/n.” He grins, showing his precious dimples. I cant stop smiling no matter how hard I try as he opens the door for me.

I think I’m finally going to pass this class.

#ahs cult #ahs hotel #evan peters #evan peters smut #jimmy darling smut #kai anderson #kit walker smut #ahs asylum #ahs fandom #ahs murder house #quicksilver #quicksilver smut #peter maximoff #peter maximof x reader #evan peters x reader #warren lipka #Kia Anderson smut #jimmy darling x reader

321 notes · View notes